Artemis Fowl: Key to Ethos
by shaadiaThePrincessOfWeird
Summary: Set after TEC, Haven City is tossed into an unprecedented web of chaos. The suspect? Fowl. The help? Also Fowl. Because there are secret keys to hidden worlds and the only chance at victory are a couple of calculated shots in the dark. Villains will cackle. Nightmares will talk. And a lot of things will go up in flames. This adventure is a game on a ticking clock...
1. Chapter 1: Stakeout

**Author's Note;**

 **Although this fic is set after the third book, there will be spoilers for the rest...weird, I know, but there's an explanation at the end note of this chapter. WITHOUT FURTHER ADO...**

 **I do not own Artemis Fowl.**

—•—

 **KEY TO ETHOS**

CHAPTER ONE: STAKEOUT

 _Takes place six years after the Eternity Code_

Stakeouts, in general, were not part of Holly's daily routine. She didn't usually have to spend hours in hidey-holes or treetops, _or_ even disused lavatories like some of her more respectable colleagues had to, but her current mission had so far included many things besides that she wasn't particularly fond of. A shuttle ride with convicted felons because it was the _only shuttle headed that way_. Late arrival to a gang-fight between some rogue dwarves. Hurriedly performing the ritual. Getting lunch from the Mud Men's _Subway_. And now, finally, lying low atop an human five-star-hotel's _roof_.

And the best part? Foaly had been in her ear all along.

 _"...And then,"_ he was whinnying, " _She took the moisturizer away, said I needed to get a new one because this was expired–moisturizers don't expire! After I kept on refusing, she threatened to cut the wires on my monitors–my_ old _monitors that_ had _wires, and when I said no, you can't do that, she showed me the kitchen scissor! And that scissor is_ sharp _, if you've never seen it. Honestly, Holly! Caballine's so full of drama–"_

Holly groaned a very loud groan, hoping he got the point. He did. But he pointedly ignored said point.

" _You are so lucky, you know that? You don't even_ need _moisturizer. Skin is easier to look after than hooves. Skin blisters will hurt, granted, but blisters under your feet? Can you imagine that sort of pain?"_

The elf sniffled. "Foaly, I just travelled across D'Arvitting _Europe_ to track him down, and I swear if I miss this time because of your rumbling–"

Foaly snorted. " _It's night. It's very, very late in the night. I don't have anyone to vent my sleepiness on..."_

"You haven't been this annoying since your wedding night!"

" _You can't blame me for that! I was nerve-wrecked. Imagine if Caballine's family had suddenly decided I was not worthy or something!"_

Holly rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Please show up," she pleaded their suspect. "Please show up _soon_."

The cold English air felt air conditioned to breathe, but a lot pleasanter given the fact that it was all natural and winter was long past starting to fade. Holly didn't like stakeouts at all; but she did love the surface, and everything that came with it save for a certain species hated by most fairies. She loved the sun, the cool mud, the mild morning breeze and the crickets. Dolphins, cute and impossible to have straight conversations with. The nights. Several phases of moon and ignited stars on a dark blue or pitch black sky– it was really not fair that the people had been driven away from all of it. The Mud Men were barely capable of handling it. Green house gases. Everything exploding. If only they knew what it felt like, the claustrophobic depths of Haven City.

Their case was a major one. Perhaps the suspect was merely a suspect, but whether they had evidence or not, he had the potential to be a dangerous enemy. They had known that right from the beginning. It actually disappointed her a little. She had honestly dared to hope things would change...

" _Holly, look down_."

She looked down at once, triggering a shiver of alertedness up her spine. It wasn't difficult to locate _what_ was down–what was difficult to locate was the target himself.

"Why is..." started Holly, always ready to whine to Foaly, but she trailed off.

 _Oh no. Oh no, this is_ not _going to be easy_.

The crowd was huge. Easily two hundred odd regular hotel guests, add to that a sudden emergence of several camera crews and security personnel. She hadn't seen this before. _It hadn't been there before_. They'd all come out like moths attracted to a lamp on a gloomy day.

Grunting, Holly pushed herself down on her elbows and squinted. She was forced to blink several times. The paparazzi was blinding. Flashes of white and neon colours from everywhere in the excited crowd, exploding like toxic paint bombs. Foaly said something, but she drowned him out. Commander Root had sent her on a hunch, yes, but if this human was really behind it...

 _Bingo_. Holly shielded a good half of her vision with an elbow and concentrated on the newly acquired target. In the very center of the chaos, the eye of the cyclone, was the subject of all the attention. A metallic-black Audi A6 with tinted glass and bulletproof windows. But it was closed. Nobody was getting out.

Then someone did, and Holly felt a feeling of dread and anticipation she hadn't felt in all of six years.

A huge man, shaven, in a formal suit-and-tie– bulked up with both the his sheer size and a very possible arsenal of weapons within his coat pockets. Most of the crowd immediately edged away. Holly wondered briefly how he had even fit into the driver's seat, but that senseless wondering was put to an abrupt halt when the manservant opened one of the rear doors.

Foaly said something over the comm, but all she heard was the thundering blood rush in her ears. She knew what it was. It was thrill. It was eager expectation. A part of her wished he'd turn out to be innocent, but a good three-quarters of her just _hoped_ there'd be a problem.

Her desk job as a Major was getting boring. And it was damn well _about time._

At the rear door, a slim briefcase in hand, Artemis Fowl stepped out of the car with a look of complete irritation sewn into his features.

" _...olly, are you getting this? Speak up! Are you...D'Arvit, are you apprehended? Is there a gun pointed to your head?"_

Surprising herself, Holly hissed at him to keep quiet.

Fowl was greeted by hordes of people who were either admirers or muscle hired to hug him to death, and entire shoals of girls his age, but the bodyguard would simply not have it. Nobody dared question that. Not even the ones wearing seven layers of lip gloss. Artemis gave Butler a grateful nod and walked straight through the path cleared for him, as if he couldn't at all hear the silent, frightened noises of clicking cameras and scrawling on reporters' notepads. No, he just walked straight into the hotel with Butler at his heels, and it took five entire minutes for anyone left outside the doors to get over their fear and silence. Butler often had that effect on people.

It also took five whole minutes for Foaly to reach Holly, because she'd muted him on the comm.

" _Hey! What was that for? I honestly thought you were in some kind of dangerous–"_

Holly muted him again and let her eyes fixate on the spot Fowl had stood the longest in.

He had grown up, there was no doubt about it. He was no longer a fourteen year old, or anywhere near a teenager, he was actually _grown up_ now. And yet...and yet he continued to pose a threat to the people, if he was actually the one behind the illegal shipments of goblin weaponry. Fowl, Julius had said. The case smelt of Fowl. And that's why she was here, on a mission nobody but herself, Foaly and Julius knew about.

But he had still changed.

Artemis Fowl was what you'd call a billionaire with a purpose. Two years ago, the Mud Boy– _Man_ , the elf corrected herself, had bought out a solar cell company and mixed his own ideas into the design. The result had been a hundred percent spike in efficiency, storage and an enormous price tag. Fowl hadn't stopped there. He'd come up with a mode of successfully transmitting excess energy across parts of the world with some complicated satellite things–Holly, as you may have realized, was not one for technical terms–and the world had been shocked. Fowl had subsequently won two Nobel prizes, three invitations to the White House and the cover of TIME Magazine. She would never admit it even to herself, but her heart _had_ fluttered. Who cared if he was profit-motivated? He was actually doing something for the planet. Something truly honorable that saved the Earth from Mud Men's habits.

But now, of course, she was more than a little annoyed that he was attempting to stick his nose back in Fairy affairs.

Foaly somehow managed to override her headset and get in her ears again.

"Holly, what in Frond's name is wrong with you?" he demanded, voice sounding more real now than robotic. "You are _not_ supposed to cut off connection like that. You might as well remove your helmet and throw it away, you know? What was that all about?"

His sudden input was enought to rudely summon her back to reality. Holly snapped, waking from her daze, before quickly remembering why exactly she was perched on the roof of a Mud Man

dwelling.

"Sorry," she said, not feeling very sorry. Her train of thoughts just a while back was already starting to catch up to her. "I should go in, right?"

"Go in, knock him out, bring him over to my interrogation room."

Holly frowned. "Well, one fairy isn't enough to apprehend Butler."

"No, but one Mesmer is." Foaly was obviously still irate about the muting. "If you can somehow look him in the eyes long enough."

Holly shook her head as the realization fully dawned on her. "I got this far with no actual _plan_?"

"No plan can outdo Butler," said the centaur a _little_ apologetically. "I'm sorry, Holly, but you were also hired for your brains."

The elf cursed under her breath. She had _really_ not expected something like this. "What does the room look like?"

"Penthouse suite," said Foaly, who probably called up a blueprint monitor while he was at it. "Two rooms, about the same size, very big. A lot of furniture you could hide behind, luckily, and as there's also the possibility that Fowl will get the room _without_ the window, going through the window would mean hello Butler, bye bye dear life."

"How can I get to Fowl, then? Avoiding Butler of course."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. "The only window anywhere around Fowl, that _wouldn't_ be bullet proof or titanium-locked, would be in the bathroom adjoining his room."

Holly almost snorted. Almost. "What if the big man decides to have that bathroom?"

"I checked," assured Foaly. "It's a very small window, just before the shower cubicle, barely enough for even _you_ wiggle your way in. It _is_ bulletproof, but it doesn't have a titanium lock. This can go very straightforward if you mesmerize Fowl before he gets to call Butler. And seeing as you're now an entirely new species to him, he _is_ going to be very interested."

Holly's ears prickled. "Just what are you suggesting, centaur? That I take off my disguise?"

"It's a holo-projector, Holly, not a disguise. Up close he'll be able to tell that you're flickering," Foaly made a sound that sounded like chewing on a carrot. Her own stomach growled. Damned Subway. They had given her a kiddies sandwich and a Kylo Ren toy. Foaly continued unawares. "I mean, you tell him you're an elf and he's going to have _at least_ twenty questions. He isn't going to call Butler straight away because he'll be interested in getting his answers."

Holly narrowed her eyes. "You and I are going to have a serious talk about planning a mission in future."

Foaly, she knew, hid a chuckle at that. "You don't like Tom Cruise-style cinematic break-ins?"

"I doubt even a human actor has broken in through a bathroom window."

"The bathroom isn't a problem," she could swear she heard Foaly smirk. "Didn't you notice already? Fowl is quite the specimen, even for a human."

Holly ignored the faint rush of colour creeping to her cheeks. "No, I didn't notice, Foaly. I think you've been watching too many Skylar Peat movies."

"In which the helpless but fiery damsel falls for the ruthless but very handsome enemy?"

"In which a centaur once annoyed an elf and ended up in a hospital bunk."

"Oh. That one."

"Yes, that one."

"I didn't like it very much."

"I do now. So stay quiet and speak when spoken to. Am I clear on that?"

Foaly gulped. Looking back now, really shouldn't have made that joke. "Yessir."

Holly pulled her visor down over her eyes. "Good. Now, Fowl, let's see if you have what it takes to be back at Public Enemy Number One."

•

 **Author's Note; My original A/N stated that this fic, as it takes place after the third book, will not contain any spoilers for the other books, buuut...I've thought the whole story over again, and it's not fair to say there won't be spoilers. So I'm going to warn you now- I'm really sorry I didn't do this earlier- later chapters will contain SIGNIFICANT spoilers for all the AF books, including TLG. I repeat the word SIGNIFICANT.**

 **And yes, this originally said "Please leave a review :)", so please do! :D**


	2. Chapter 2: Situation

**Author's Note; Ok, first things first! A very big thanks going out to the people who followed, favourited and especially those who reviewed as well :D Your support is awesome, guys! And I _will_ reply to comments. I'm extremely sorry that I haven't PMed a reply yet. I've just found the time. **

**Chapter Note;**

 **In reality, my writing is actually very descriptive and I tend to use a lot of details, but time is an essential factor for that and I apologize in advance if you don't think there's enough description to go about. But I shall try my best, and feel free to leave constructive criticism in your comments! The reviews so far have been very good ;)**

 **On with it!**

—•:—

CHAPTER TWO: SITUATION

.

Holly had got her invitation from one of the dumber-looking guards. She'd pulled a bunny hoodie over her ears and draped herself in an oversize sweater, running over to them like a lost little child.

"Mommy went in there," she'd insisted, until the smarter of the two rolled his eyes and went back to his doughnut, and the dumber one gave up and opened the back entrance for her.

Holly had flashed him a salute before sprinting in.

The back entrance, built into a stiff wall behind the hotel, gave way to an empty space of garden and the area behind the first-floor kitchens; but then one would be met with the back wall of the building itself, which contrasted the rest of the hotel sharply. The walls were bleached white and colonial-looking, but the windows and balconies were steel blue and the uppermost set of rooms, occupying the area of half a floor each, had three-sixty degree bulletproof windows for one to appreciate the whole of the dazzling city from. But this approach had been out of the question. The windows were obviously unbreakable. And a break-in from the very front of the building would be noticed way too easily. Yeah, Fowl had one of these penthouses. Very typical for a guy who was trying to save electricity.

It was a convenient surprise that Butler had agreed to a room in the corner; those were usually the most vulnerable to this kind of break-in. Well, it was a surprise Butler had agreed to windows at all. Foaly had been mistaken initially, somehow managing to get the layouts of some _other_ hotel they'd stayed in. He'd been pretty miffed when Holly had pointed out that the penthouse suites were probably the big ones with the windscreens. He'd promptly come up with the bathroom-window access point.

Holly looked up and realized that the twenty-third floor was a long, long way up. She had earlier been perched on one of the lower roofs, close enough to catch a clear glimpse of his face. Now she could only make the accessible window out as less than a dot some impossible height away.

So here she was, about to pull an actual Tom Cruise stunt. With wings. And invisibility. Okay, maybe it wasn't impressive enough to pass for a stunt.

Holly discarded the jacket and the hoodie, pulling her helmet over hear head and switching on communications. "Advice, Foaly?"

"Remember to fly slow, Holly," reminded the centaur in her earpiece.

"Yeah," replied the elf, eyes still directed upwards, activating the wings. "Wish me luck."

"Remember. Just mesmerize him and get some answers. Physically bringing him down to Haven is just an extra."

"Ok," Holly squinted up at the building. Most of the lights were off, save for a few corridors.

The wind howled wildly in her face and puffed at her cheeks.

This was the thrill she lived for.

Holly activated her shield and sped upwards.

—••—

Julius Root was having the time of his life.

In the bad sense.

In the sense that he was hanging onto the dreadlocks of a rampant bull troll that was just about done charging through the sewers of Haven City and was now in the very center of the main plaza.

"A little help..." he grunted, knuckles white. "Would be nice, Kelp."

The city square was a blur of excitement, panic and fear in the form of civilians clustered around the scene at generously safe distances. The LEP Retrieval squad had their guns pointed at the creature; also from a relatively safe distance. Trouble was supposed to have the best aim. Trouble was being quite useless at the moment.

The troll howled, rearing on its hind legs, screeching at the air with shaggy arms as it tried to violently shake the fly off its back. It stretched its back painfully and reached over for Root with blunt but lethal talons, who barely managed to maneuver the troll's bulky frame away from him. At the price of getting sucked further into its drenched furs. Despite the situation, Root tried not to gag. The scent of centuries-old sewer water squirmed into his nostrils and threatened his entire being. He couldn't let go. Bull troll. Long way down.

"Hold on, Commander," called Trouble, adjusting his aim with the troll's movement. Root gripped the creature's locks a little tighter and tried not to barf at the smell as he was forced to hug himself onto the shaking troll for the sake of dear life.

 _Worst experience as Commander? At least he could answer the press._

"A little to the right, Trubs!" cheered Grub, who promptly earned a death glare from his brother and in turn sank further into the safe haven that was the squad van.

Trouble fired a shot and it hit the troll right on the nose.

The creature howled and reflexively tossed Root all the way across the street and onto the roof of the van like a rodeo bull would a rag doll. Grub dashed out squealing.

Root groaned, bringing himself to sit up. The world was spinning before him. He couldn't make out what was going on, except for the considerable crater he'd made in the roof and how it would be nice to just lie there.

Trouble fired at the troll again, hit it partially in the shoulder, and cursed. It turned to growl at him. The rest of the squad immediately backed away.

"Aim!" barked Trouble, annoyed.

The squad raised their weapons and took aim, each one of the junior officers attempting to look their best intimidating.

"Three," started Trouble, his fingers held up. "Two-"

The officers steadied their aim. The civilians bit their nails.

Then the lights went off and the troll was in its favourite habitat.

It was quiet. There was nothing but pitch darkness and quiet for the first couple of moments in which fairies gasped, and the troll came to term with its new surroundings.

And so came the screaming.

" _To the pavements!_ " shouted Root, immediately on his feet. "To the pavements, now!"

Frantic feet scurried in crowds to the instructed direction, but they weren't fast enough. The troll had already started charging down the street, and Trouble's officers were saved in the nick of time by the fact that the troll had set its sights on another target.

The Council building.

"It's just a troll!" yelled Trouble, immediately taking after the beast. " _One_ troll! Surround it!"

Root took a moment to nod his approval, but was soon enough ushering panicked citizens away from the action. There was still a lot of screaming and toddlers crying. Root hated crying.

But the troll was upon the building in no time and it was still a challenge for Trouble's squad to navigate through the dark. The moment they did get their bearings and come to an acceptable formation, though, it had already scaled the roof of the building with unheard-of skill for a troll.

Trouble slowly lifted his visor.

"What the-"

Raine Vinyayà popped up next to him from thin air. "That's no ordinary troll," she observed.

Trouble snapped his head back. "Where did you-"

"Was in the area. I suggest you hit it so it looses its grip before-"

The troll shrieked and brought a shaggy arm down on the overhead tank.

•••

"...unacceptable," finished Root, addressing the Council members gathered in the still dark LEP Situations Room. "It could have been a controversy, Chairman, but it was a badly planned one."

"It worked," bristled Cahartez, glaring from his spot sunken in the chair, as if the day's events had taken their toll on him.

"I don't see any one of you dead," the Commander pointed out. "The troll managed to flood the building, but most of you were on leave and the minor staff inside had plenty of time to evacuate. It was not an intelligent attack. It was just a dumb troll."

Rodent, a gnome whose scraggy looks suited his name well, scratched his bristles with stick-like fingers. "But it definitely had some guidance."

Vinyayà almost dared to snort. "In all due respect, Councilman, are you saying that the troll was trained to do what it did?"

"I'm asking for the hundredth time where the hell that centaur is," growled Rodent. "Do we have reason to believe you are giving priority above the Council? Or that you know more than you let on?"

Trouble, who'd maintained stoic silence by the doors throughout the impromptu discussion, couldn't control an outburst of, "That is ridiculous."

"In which case that accursed donkey would be in this room by now!" piped up one of the Sprites from the Council. "Or are you a part of this as well, Major?"

Trouble appeared startled. "What?"

"Gentlemen, please," called Cahartez, tapping on the table in front of them. "These accusations are rising too fast and too far. I speak for the Council when I say that an attempt has been made on our lives, but then again we have no reason to point fingers at the LEP."

Root rubbed his forehead tiredly. The three Councilmen present here right now, who hadn't taken the public holiday, coincidentally happened to be the worst and the first ones to crack under pressure. Special mention must be made of Rodent himself. Root honestly wondered how he hadn't gone into retirement yet. Fairies like that drove him utterly insane.

"So where is Foaly?" asked Rodent casually.

"Currently engaged in assisting a live mission, Councilman," replied Root, keeping his temper successfully in check and being as respectful as the title deserved. "He should be available soon."

But Vinyayà glanced at him from a corner of her eye, having instantly recognized dodging.

"Live mission?" echoed the Sprite on the Council.

"Confidential."

"We were just attacked and we suspect a controversy. We deserve to know a little, do we not?"

Vinyayà laid two fingers on his forearm before Root could start shouting. "Of course, Councilman. May I speak to the Commander for a moment?"

Cahartez waved a hand dismissively, interrupting an incoming protest from the other two. "Go ahead. But the majority of us want an answer."

The elf nodded appreciatively, then turned to face Root some distance out of their earshot.

"This is not your division–" started Root, but he was cut off.

"I know it's not my division, Commander, but I remember someone asking for assistance," said Vinyayà. "And why exactly are you reluctant to bring Foaly into this? The Council are an impatient lot, Julius. They'll stop at nothing to get their revenge if we don't play along with this _controversy_ theory. And it's going to look really bad on the LEP once the press starts printing red headlines."

Root was about to snap something about his lack of concern over the press, but a strange feeling of conscience suddenly dawned on him and he decided to go with the truth. A bit of the truth.

"Foaly's busy."

The Wing Commander crossed her arms. "Elaborate."

"Like I told them, he's assisting a mission. A potentially dangerous one. I might lose my best officer if I make the Council's _theory_ a priority."

Despite everything, a smile tugged on Vinyayà's lips. "Major Short?"

Root nodded, grateful for the understanding. "It's regarding the shipments of weaponry."

The other elf squinted. "The shipments?"

Alright. Maybe that had revealed a little too much.

"Precautionary," Root caught himself. "But it's alright. I can tell them to wait until it's done–"

"I think, Julius, that this is too much of confidentiality to maintain over a _precautionary_ mission," Vinyayà tapped her chin thoughtfully. "If I remember correctly, the moment this case turned up, your assumption was–"

"It was a baseless assumption. Foaly refused to act on it."

"Yet here is this otherwise needless confidentiality. At the moment Major Short is currently under Foaly's guidance to apprehend our long-forgotten enemy Artemis Fowl. Isn't she?"

Root was taken aback. _That_ had been fast. He made a mental note to himself that in future he would be a little more careful with his words around the Wing Commander lest she divulge further information. With the computing ability of her memory...

"You said it was a baseless assumption."

Root nearly groaned. "Yes, Wing Commander, it was. But precautions must be taken in cases that smell of Fowl, unless we want the existence of fairykind under threat again."

"It's been six years since the mindwipe."

"We'll never be safe from him."

Vinyayà sighed, then shrugged. "If you must. But _if_ nothing goes horribly wrong in Holly's mission, the Council gets Foaly to sort out their fears and as of now, you need to tell them exactly why our resident genius is unavailable."

"The truth?" asked Root, frowning.

Vinyayà rolled her eyes, already walking back to the table. "Of course not. Rodent would go into shock."

–••_•–

 **London, England.**

"OK, OK and OK," muttered Holly into her helmet earpiece. "Yes, Foaly, I'm flying the slowest I can, Okay?"

The centaur on the other end snorted. "You slowed down when I screamed at you for the sixth time."

Holly smiled without a hint of apology as she neared the ledge of the penthouse window. "Shush now," she said a little quietly. "Don't want Fowl to hear a horse outside his window, now do we? I think it'd be worse than an elf."

Foaly snorted the softest he could. "Just apprehend the Mud Boy, for heaven's sake."

Holly smiled against the feeling of the wind. "Mud Man."

"Oh yes, he's Mud Man now. Forgive me. Didn't mean to offend."

"Shut up, Foaly," said Holly casually, turning towards the window. "You're going to-"

The elf froze. The bathroom lights were on. And while that was more than expected...she had never for the briefest moment considered the possibility of the shower being in use. Which would've been stupid of her if it wasn't perfectly reasonable to assume people would be _asleep_ at twelve. Even someone as active a mastermind as Fowl. The window was glazed, but the sound of running water was loud against the howling wind. She couldn't get in this way.

"I think you're at the wrong window," whispered Foaly. "D'Arvit, Holly, I think you're outside Butler's window."

The elf winced. Time to get away from here as fast as...

"Which means Artemis is alone."

Holly's ears almost perked up. Had the danger level of her mission just dropped like that? "Really?"

"But you're on a serious time limit because there's still the risk of him coming to check."

Holly bit her lip. Not in the I'm-a-little-nervous way, but rather in the I-may-not-look-it-but-I-am-terrified-of-Butler way. She shook herself. Time to do this. She was a professional.

Holly hovered over to the next window located a convenient five meters away. The bathroom lights were on, but an instinctive x-ray/thermal scan proved that the door was open and the bathroom was empty. Holly raised an eyebrow. Wasting electricity now? Niiiiiice, eco-genius.

"Safe?" she whispered into her helmet.

"Relatively. Hold on, I'm sending you the layout."

Her communicator beeped and projected the image before her visor. There was a short corridor from the bathroom door, which turned onto a broader corridor and only after it was the room itself. A king-sized bed, a mini sofa set, a desk and a walk-in closet.

"And Fowl?"

"He won't see you approach."

"Here we go," said Holly, mostly to herself, holding her breath in as she worked her omnitool on the window lock. She pushed it in cautiously and stepped through. Alright, it would more accurately be defined as _ducked and crawled_ through. Anyway, the window was a few meters away from the floor, so an elf of her height had to be especially careful in hopping down from it.

Foaly made a comment about San D' Klass through a chimney, but Holly had the sense not to make a noise snapping at him. She was still invisible but she had a feeling that _anything_ was enough to set Fowl off.

The bathroom itself was several laps of luxury ahead of anything she had seen below ground. While a generous portion of it was clean white space, a cubicle, a jacuzzi built into a wooden floor and was that a...sauna? What?

 _Can we please focus here?_

Holly blinked herself back to reality. Right. Time to apprehend the Mud Man.

"It's a good thing to assess your surroundings," commented Foaly, failing to sound serious.

"Zip it," said Holly, walking over to where the door was still wide open.

Holly checked for the umpteenth time whether her shield was good enough and she wasn't running out of magic. Then, taking cautious steps sticking close to the walls, she made her way through the smaller corridor and turned onto the wide on. A couple more steps on the Madagascan teak floor, past three large impressionist paintings, and simply turning her head round the corner gave her a clear view of their latest suspect.

Holly didn't look at once; she first clarified that he was merely on a phone call and not by any chance conversing with Butler. Then she turned her head and looked.

She immediately regretted it.

Earlier, from the rooftop, she had barely caught a glimpse of a pale boy...man, whatever, in a formal bespoke suit complete with a black tie and a briefcase, looking rather annoyed at all the attention that was being shoved in his face. The human she saw right now _did_ look rather irate, perched on the corner of the bed, with a thin phone pasted to his ear; but minus the bespoke and tie, minus _anything_ really. Anything but dripping wet hair and a short white towel clutching his waist. And the hint of slight muscles along both arms and the _very obvious_ outline of a perfect six-pack–

" _Like I said, quite the specimen,_ " sniggered the centaur in her ear, though she imagined he was having great difficulty with holding back an eruption of laughter.

At such a close range, Holly couldn't reply even if she wanted to.

As if reading the question on her mind, Foaly said, "Now we wait. Just stay still until he's done with the call–no, sorry, Holly, you can't wait for him to get dressed lest Butler decides to turn up. Lock the door _after_ you've made your presence known. You don't want to alert him..."

But at the moment she wasn't keeping quiet for fear of alerting their subject. At the moment she was quiet with the realization that he had probably already been alerted, seeing as his gaze was fixed steadily in her direction.

"Holly?" asked Foaly. She muted him at once.

"No, it's not a worthwhile investment," Fowl was telling the caller, although his eyes didn't shift from their chosen spot. "Yes, I _can_ handle it. The problem is really with the officials. I've noticed a particular disliking for Fowl Industries and considering the lack of security of the location–absolutely not. In that case the profits would only start to come in a long time after my death. I have neither the time nor money to waste."

Holly cursed under her breath. Now she really did hope he was behind the weaponry. If that was the case, at least _she_ wouldn't be the reason behind his remembering of the People.

"Can I call you back? I'm not giving you a choice. Alright." Fowl cut the line and put his phone down.

The elf prepared herself for the worst. He'd probably already alerted Butler.

But instead he stood up and walked into the closet, giving her a moment to raise an eyebrow before he again emerged dressed in a casual shirt and a pair of pants.

Holly almost rolled her eyes.

"It is interesting, really," said Artemis, a smirk playing on his lips. "How a little bit of refracted light can foil your fairy technology."

Paying absolutely no attention to Foaly's reconnection and the following warnings that came from him, Holly stepped out of the corridor and dropped her shield.

"Hello, Fowl," she said.

•

 **Author's Note;**

 **Next up; interrogation, action and explosions.**

 **I promise you, things are going to get exciting. XD**


	3. Chapter 3: Contact

**Author's Note;**

 **Let me first say thank you to my reviewers, followers and readers for all the support they've shown. And this fic earned 10 follows in just the first chapter! I am in hysterics. You guys are awesome.**

 **I had TREMENDOUS fun writing the third chapter. You will soon seen why ;)**

 **Here I'd also like to introduce you to an OC whom you will love–unlike TCSB's Loken, because this one isn't creepily after Holly– and who is also in real life an FF buddy of mine. (I did not ask his permission to use him in a fanfic. Is that a bad thing?)**

 **Bleh.**

 **Woo. This author does not own Artemis Fowl or related characters.**

 **Lez get on with it!**

—•:;—

CHAPTER THREE: CONTACT

.

 _What's the worse fear you've ever known?_

His own footsteps thundered in his ears as he crossed the cold, damp, echoing basement. He reached a flight of steep stairs leading down, and nearly missed the second step. It sent a shudder and a momentary shockwave through his entire being, but he was soon back at running as fast as humanly possible.

 _Spiders? Creepy-crawlies? The monster under your bed?_

Caleb rushed to a halt at a brick wall. Dead end. The scribbles painfully etched into each black brick seemed to ring with mocking laughter.

The _thing_ was nearing. The _thing_ was drawing closer, it was just starting to descend the steps now...

 _What did you imagine that monster to look like?_

He couldn't see it. But the aura of lost dreams and cruel nightmares that surrounded it had a wide and almost magnetic radius, threatening with each of its leaps to drag the sanity from his mind and plunge him into Ethos. The land of crumbling ashes, of lost hope. The last place he wanted to be.

 _Tell me._

Caleb clenched a white-knuckled fist. He was at doom's door with no chance of escape. The walls screamed back at him, giggled, laughed.

And then his banging right hand found a switch.

 _Tell me, Caleb._

But it had found him, and it tapped him on the shoulder and instinct made him turn.

 _I'd love to know._

The boy screamed and hit the switch.

•

"I can only imagine the workload your fairy police has," stated Artemis casually, sitting down on one of the plush chairs around the coffee table. "It took you four months to take action."

Holly didn't feel threatened enough to draw her gun, but she still neared with caution and a scowl on her face.

"Four months? Is that how long it's been going, Fowl?"

Artemis shrugged. "I'm surprised you took heed of the signal at all. While it was definitely stronger than most human signals, I had my doubts about ever contacting the fairy folk that way. Now that you're here, at least I can be assured of your existence."

Holly shook her head. "I'm not talking about some telephone signal, Mud Man, I'm talking about the _other_ way you got us hooked again."

Artemis's face registered genuine surprise, but it didn't last long and he computed her words fast. Clearly this fairy wasn't sent to investigate his signal; though that _had_ been his intention. No, the People seemed to have another reason for recklessly turning up at his door.

 _Got us hooked again?_

As far as he knew, this was the first time he'd met a member of the fairy race. He had come to a conclusion that perhaps his fascination with a mythical people who lived below the Earth's surface was perhaps without proper evidence; the signal he had broadcasted four months previously aimed at the Earth's inner mantle had been nothing but the testing of a hypotheses. Obviously _now_ the fairy folk were real, unless he was facing a very clever hoax at the moment.

"Don't play dumb," said the fairy, crossing her arms. "You know as well as I do that _you're_ the one behind the shipments, so–"

"Shipments?" inquired Artemis, interested.

"Yes, Fowl, the goblin weaponry. I don't know if your intentions are to get your revenge or to poke your nose into our affairs again–"

"Goblins? My, this is interesting," Artemis raised an eyebrow. "And what do you mean by _again_?"

Foaly cut back into Holly's ear. "He's playing dumb," he snorted.

"Of course he is," muttered Holly. "I know you've got your memories back, Artemis."

This was apparently the strangest thing she could've said, because Fowl reacted with a deep frown.

"Fairy, please. Not only is your first-name-basis unconvincing, but I am also inclined to believe that you have got the wrong person. I neither know what you are talking about nor do you have any clue as to my meaning. Let me make several things clear here." He steepled his fingers and met her eyes. "Four months ago, I broadcasted a stronger-than-human wireless signal aimed at the Earth's upper mantle in order to intercept any communication networks your hidden civilization _may_ have. A side-project, nothing more, as I believed my theories about your existence were a little far-fetched. I was somehow unable to intercept anything, and I supposed I could try again later. I did not however expect one of your kind to turn up at my door. With entirely different reasons, as it turns out."

Holly rolled her eyes. "We don't have the wrong person, Fowl."

"Fairy, please. At least enlighten me on why these accusations point _my_ way," Artemis seemed perfectly calm with an undertone of mild excitement. Of course it would excite him. If he wasn't already behind it, he would no doubt try to learn a lesson from it. That or he was telling the truth and he hadn't got his memories back, and the opportunity to exploit a new race _for the first time_ was what he found exciting.

"Because the shipments were traced back to a human supplier," Holly literally pointed a finger at him. "And we've learnt from previous experience that _you're_ the only Mud Man capable o–"

Artemis stood up, picked up a glass of water and walked over to the windscreen window.

Holly scowled and followed him. "Look, Fowl, don't act as if you can't remember. You've obviously cheated the mind-wipe–"

"This is a lot to take in at once, Major." Artemis grinned slightly, his piercing blue eyes directed at the blinking city lights below. "Can I call you Major?"

Holly almost laughed. "It's not like you to give yourself away, Fowl."

"I am not giving myself away. I am simply able to read your name tag–" He paused and cast a glance at it. "Short, is it? As I was saying, I am able to read and understand your language, if with a little difficulty, because I have put extensive effort into it in the past. I don't remember why," he frowned. "But let's not sway from the topic, shall we? What were you saying about a mind-wipe?"

"D'Arvit, Holly," said Foaly in her earpiece. "He's obviously playing. Not even Fowl can conclude so much that fast."

Holly almost groaned. "Deal with this yourself," she muttered, before looking back at the Mud Man. "Are you honestly telling me that you don't remember?"

Artemis shrugged. "I don't. But you talk to me as if we've conversed before, and you've hinted at a memory-loss on my part multiple times. Tell me, Major, were you responsible for this so-called mind wipe?"

Holly raised an eyebrow. "You really _don't_ remember, do you? It was the LEP. Commander Root? You can't recall any of it?"

"None," Artemis gazed back the city lights, a thoughtful look on his features. Holly had never before seen him look this...harmless. Alright, knowing his reputation she would never call it harmless, but he certainly didn't _look_ like he was scheming something wicked. He didn't _look_ like the boy who'd held her for ransom. Then again six years was a long time, and a lot had changed for him. "Does the LEP have special methods of interrogation?"

And then Holly remembered, and almost slapped her forehead. The Mesmer. She could've just used the _Mesmer_ this whole time!

Noticing her hesitation, Artemis smirked. "And I'm guessing these special methods require exact eye contact. The story fits."

Holly was too busy cursing herself to catch this, but Foaly did. " _The story fits_?" He repeated. "Holly, ask him what he means."

"Right, alright. What do you mean?"

"I mean that your story of a mind-wipe is supported by a bit of evidence I know of." Artemis craned his neck to peer at the hotel's driveway, a long way down, but his speech remained focused. "You see, six years previously, I woke up one day to find mirrored contacts in my eyes. Imagine my surprise when I found that Butler and Juliet had the same contacts implanted in theirs. And it seems I had ordered the contacts _myself_." He finished his glass of water, and looked at her coolly. "No doubt to cheat your interrogation methods. From which we can also divulge another important fact."

Holly was starting to get a little annoyed by the return of his smug tones, but some part of her freely admitted that this was indeed getting interesting. "And what is that, Fowl?"

"I cheated your interrogation. Which means I have hidden some sort of clue, some sort of proof that will give me my memories back," Artemis turned to the direction of the corridor, because the door was being opened on the other end. Holly spun around, mentally slapping herself. She'd forgotten to burn in the lock and now Butler would...

"Hello, Artemis Fowl," said Opal Koboi, walking through the corridor and into the room in a kit of black boots and a characteristic smirk. "Remember me?"

Holly immediately drew her gun–

But the world had already shut down and she felt her lifeless frame crumple to the floor, and the last sounds she heard were waves of static from her earpiece and the malicious, annoying chuckling of the last pixie she wanted to meet again.

••

He could not remember the last time he'd been so transfixed.

No, actually he could. It was that time in the Academy when they had unveiled the collection of the _new era_ LEP weapons. He had been a mere cadet-in-training at the time, so even _glimpsing_ the fantastic arsenal of guns and grappling hooks had made his mouth water. Longing for the day he'd get to wield one, to _feel_ one. Longing for the great career he had no idea would actually come.

She had temporarily evacuated her position as Wing Commander and taken to assisting with the more mundane affairs of the ordinary LEP, like breaking up goblin gang fights and going after lethal curry-smugglers. But Vinyayà had adapted to this job quite well over the past couple of months during which her own division had been inactive. Right now she hit several moving targets at once in what was set as the highest difficulty level of the senior shooting range, and shooting with a gun wasn't even something she normally _did_. As far as he was aware, for the past fifty years she'd only ever shot something with the blasters of a shuttle. Which was also an enviable skill, but this sort of adaptability...

A rude tap on the shoulder from Foaly interrupted his daze, and Root's immediate reflex was a shout.

"What do you want, centaur?"

Foaly reared back, hands raised in peace. "Hey, you know I wouldn't disturb unless something was up!"

Root growled, but refrained from shouting again. He found it a difficult task. "Yes, Foaly? And this had better be really important."

Foaly gulped. He didn't know whether he should or shouldn't be glad he was about to deliver bad news. Either way he was going to receive an earful.

"We just lost contact with Holly."

" _What?_ " shouted Root, turning several shades redder than was his normal angry colour. "Explain to me–"

"I don't know if it was somehow Fowl's doing," admitted Foaly. "She muted me off several times, but I'd be able to establish communications again if it was her. I traced the hacker to an external party. It came from Haven's market district. Unless he's already more into our affairs than we think, it can't have been Fowl."

Root scowled. "How hard have you tried?"

"Everything."

"It clearly isn't good enough. We could have another Fowl situation in our hands. I want you packing up your best techies and off to the market district _this instant_. And take a squad with you."

Foaly nodded, albeit a little nervously. But he had to do this. If anything, for Holly's sake.

"Got it, Julius. Whom do I call?"

" _Me_ ," snapped Root. "We need to use our best. And don't call me Julius."

•••

 **Nine miles across the Atlantic. 7:30 a.m.**

Holly Short woke up to the gentle rocking of waves and the slow, soft breathing in her ear. Her eyes blinked awake, and she groaned, twisting her back as if it would put a stop to the aching in her limbs.

Turning had been a mistake, because now her face was inches apart from a certain bare-chested Mud Boy's.

 _Mud Man's_.

Holly would have screamed had she not been a professional. As it was, she was professional enough to remember just exactly _how_ they had got here and in this extremely uncomfortable position, possibly drugged, upon a crumpled blanket on the wooden floor of what was clearly a yacht or boat of some sort.

She stared at him closely for a second. Yes, still out cold. It would be no use shaking him awake if the effects of the drug were still strong; however, she decided she would try just that once she had disentangled herself from the filthy sheets. Koboi's hospitality had its limits.

Slowly forcing herself to her feet, Holly stretched every throbbing muscle in her body before coming to the apt realization that if _his_ clothes had been taken–

Holly looked down at herself to find her suit gone and a flimsy buttoned Hawaiian shirt with a pair of shorts in its place. A scowl crept onto her features. _Koboi._

Wasting no time, Holly proceeded to shake Fowl back to the land of the living.

Artemis woke up with a cough, nearly choked and finally recovered, blinking and taking in his surroundings. His assessing ended with a puzzled look in Holly's direction.

"The _pixie_ –" She attempted, but was cut off.

"What on Earth are you wearing?"

The elf glared at him. "Take a look at _yourself_."

Artemis did, and raised an eyebrow. "She certainly does have a sense of humor."

"What?"

"I seem to be in a pair of ridiculous floral beach shorts." He threw the blanket off his frame, and frowned. "Well. This is a problem, isn't it? You have been stripped of your equipment and I of my revolver and phone, which were both inside my trouser pockets. Not to mention the fact that I still haven't the slightest idea what is happening, and am tempted to conclude that this is all just some frivolous dream."

But Holly had started laughing. Despite the absurdity and confusion of the situation, the elf chose to sit back down on the floor and cover her face with her hands while her shoulders rocked with silent laughter.

Artemis sighed. "I fail to see what's funny."

But Holly wasn't done, and she continued laughing for a good thirty seconds more before she finally recovered her professionalism and, still with a grin on her face, explained, "You look ridiculous."

Artemis resisted the urge to facepalm. "Major Short, if I may point out, you don't look very flattering either. Besides, we have more important things to be concerned with."

"Yes, but I never thought I'd see the day," Holly's grin widened. " _Beach shorts._ "

Artemis was half tempted to just pull the sheets over himself again. "So we _have_ known each other before."

"And they're _pink_."

"Fairy..."

A knock on the door alerted them both, and Holly was immediately on her feet again, her fists clenched by her sides.

The door swung open and a taller elf in equally unappealing beach shorts peered into the room. Artemis stood up and almost straightened his tie before he realized he didn't have one on. Holly shoved him behind an arm and took up a fighting pose. The newcomer blinked.

"Eh...coconut water?" he offered meekly, and only now did they notice the tray in his hands.

Holly cautiously lowered her fists. "What?"

"R-Room service," stuttered the terrified elf. "I mean, if you don't want..."

Holly noticed the look on her human counterpart's face. "Can you speak in English?"

"Yes," replied the elf, switching languages. "Er...you don't want? That's fine, fine. Thank you." He had shut the door and left before Holly could question him further.

The human and elf shared a baffled glance.

"Curioser and curioser," muttered Artemis. "Perhaps...this pixie is trying to lower our guard. What reason does she have? Did I know her before the mindwipe?"

Holly nodded briefly. "She's an enemy. You and I foiled her plan to take over Haven."

A pause. "Your city, I presume. I have come across references..." He furrowed his brow. "Though, just like I cannot comprehend how I can read your letters, I do not remember when or where. So this is her shot at revenge."

Holly shrugged. "Yes. You're taking this well."

"I am no ordinary person. I suppose now that these _shipments_ you turned up questioning me about were actually her doing. In fact her plan was to get us both in the same place for the purpose of exacting her revenge."

"I don't know. Possible. Koboi was behind these kind of shipments before, and at first we suspected you; but she has been in hiding since her first plan failed, and Commander Root thought...maybe using goblin weaponry _again_ would draw attention to yourself. We thought that's what you wanted."

"I would have you know, Major Short, that I do not deal in weaponry," Artemis felt slightly uncomfortable with having no cufflinks to adjust, so he simply looked towards the door for his next statement. "If Koboi has really been in hiding, then this time round her plans will be better laid out than before."

Holly furrowed her brow. "This is unlike you, Fowl."

"How so?"

"You're trusting me too easily. You aren't questioning if this is a conspiracy. It's almost as if you _have_ your memories back."

Artemis grinned that vampire grin of his. "If it's been six years, perhaps I am a changed person."

Holly snorted. "Really now?"

"I trust you. At least outwardly. I will continue to have my doubts until I receive my memories back and unless said memories clear these doubts, but I don't suppose now is a good time to be choosy with the more believable allies. Like you. It is unlikely I will survive an alien situation on my own unless it only involves thinking."

"In other words you need a bodyguard."

"Until Butler finds me, yes."

Holly rolled her eyes. "Fine, I'm up for the post. What's your plan, boss?"

The Mud Man's blue gaze drifted over to the door again.

"We venture."

.

Artemis and Holly were greeted with a sight they _least_ expected on-board the magnificent triple-decked yacht.

A party.

There was no sign of Koboi or any associated megalomaniacs; but there were plenty of bikini-clad female fairies and males in beach shorts and swim trunks walking around and laughing on board all three of the decks, and colourful streamers glittered on the floor beneath tables of buffet-style food and drinks. There was loud music playing from various speakers attached to the cabins, and even the odd sight of a tall Mud Man and a female elf in a Hawaiian _shirt_ (compared to her party-going counterparts)did nothing to distract most.

 _Most_.

"Hey, gorgeous!" called a voice from the yacht railing. They paid no heed the first time, dismissing it as an address to someone else, but eventually couldn't ignore it because the caller, a skinny female elf in a two-piece bathing suit, suddenly appeared right before them, beaming up at Artemis.

"And you must be?" she inquired curiously, squinting up at him. Most of her attention, however, seemed to be focused on his pectorals.

Artemis gave Holly an uneasy side glance, which the elf completely misinterpreted and grinned at.

"You are _extremely_ awkward, Fowl."

Artemis rolled his eyes. "I meant to say–"

The other female grabbed him by the hand. "I don't think it matters you're a Mud Man," she said cheerfully. "If it mattered you wouldn't be _here_. Come on, I know a bunch of girls who'd _faint_ for those abs. And eyes. The combination, really."

Holly nearly exploded into laughter, much to the obvious disapproval of her human counterpart, who, deciding to have his revenge by giving her a tough time, did nothing as the newcomer dragged him along across the crowd.

The elf snapped out of it and scowled, then hurriedly followed them through the throngs of revelers. She was shorter than the average elf, for Frond's sake. She could get _stepped on_ if she wasn't careful enough.

Holly emerged on the other end to find a group of six ecstatic females all trying to chat Mud Man up at the same time. If they all had one thing in common besides the bikinis, it was seven layers of lip gloss. She briefly recalled the crowd at the hotel. Yeah, some fairy women were no different.

Artemis, for his part, looked both unimpressed and exasperated, as if he had a lot of better things to do at the moment. Well, they both definitely did and their lives could very well depend on it.

He then spotted Holly and came up with a plan she did _not_ like.

"Excuse me, ah, Tiara, was it?" he started politely, addressing the first elf. "Your friends are defenitely a pretty lot but ah–"

He was interrupted by said _pretty_ fairies' screams at the compliment, but he pressed on.

"I hate to break it to you but I already have a girlfriend."

The mood seemed to darken instantly, and several serious eyes followed his gaze.

Holly couldn't believe he was doing this.

"Sorry, babe," he approached her, looking convincingly apologetic. "Please don't get mad at me."

She was going to kill him.

.

They had walked around and across the entire yacht, even managed to enter the secured cabins and control room, but Artemis and Holly had found nothing. No clues, no hints of Koboi– it was almost as if she had just dropped them off on this party boat and magicked herself away. Artemis almost snorted at the thought. _Magicked herself away_. He wished he knew more about what he was dealing with.

On their walks, Holly had told him a bit more about his forgotten past; every one of the pieces fit in. His father's sudden appearance at Helsinki hospital, his mother's unexplained recovery, Butler's accelerated aging, Jon Spiro's comments on various news channels that _Fowl_ had driven him insane– somehow, the explanation of his adventures with the members of a different civilization was the most believable one.

The fairies on-board the yacht did not look like Koboi had hired them for her plans. Even the captain and security personnel had appeared quite normal. But if there was one thing that they found hard to ignore, it was that practically nobody aboard seemed concerned that an elf was walking alongside a Mud Man who was too tall to stand up in the cabins without having to hunch against the roof. In fact, this had been what Artemis had tried to convey to his elfin counterpart during their unfortunate encounter with the female elf earlier, but now she saw the unsettling reality of the situation for herself. Yes, nobody cared he was human. No, that was not a good thing.

They passed below one of the upper decks, and a couple more girls intently stared at him.

"D'Arvit, Fowl," grunted Holly, shoving her hands into her pockets. "Can you stop attracting so much of attention?"

Artemis shrugged, but resisted the urge to grin. "I am a Mud Man aboard a fairy yacht. Of course I keep attracting attention."

"Yeah, I noticed that too, and it seems to have nothing to do with your species."

"On the other hand I _am_ an eligible billionaire."

"They don't know that," Holly spared a moment to glare at the fairies who were looking at him, which cast their glances away immediately. "I think our problem would be somewhat sorted if you wore a shirt or something."

Artemis snorted. "I'd love to put on a shirt, Major. Did you spot any booths I could win one from?"

Holly rolled her eyes and looked towards the sunset instead. It was only just starting, but the sky was already beautiful. "You're the genius. Figure something out."

There was a brief moment in which he made no response, and Holly frowned and turned to ask him if something was wrong, but then she noted the _are you stupid_ look on his face and scowled.

"No."

"It would save us a lot of trouble."

"Absolutely not. Fate gave you a pair of pink shorts and be happy with it."

Artemis sighed. "Very well. By the way, that crowd is still staring."

Holly clenched her fists. Her dignity was more important than their cover. Right?

"Fine," she said, rubbing her temples tiredly. "I'll give you my shirt. Starting tomorrow, if we're still on this accursed party boat by then."

"Hopefully not," agreed Artemis. "I refuse to suffer this tasteless music any longer."

"The _music_ is what gets you?"

"Whyever not? I have been aboard cruise ships before, Major, and there's usually a touch of _class_ in the music they play."

"Forget I asked. I'm not surprised, really," Holly turned back to the picturesque sunset, and as soon as she did, a thought occurred to her. "Hey, Fowl, can I ask you something?"

"Whether or not I'll answer is the real question," said Artemis unconcernedly, but she completely ignored this tone. He had the talent of getting under people's skins, and such responses facilitated it.

"Why'd you do it?" she blurted, a little quickly.

"Try being a little more specific?"

"All of it," said Holly, to her embarrassment, somewhat weakly. "Your environmentalist projects and this whole conservation thing. The alternative energy plans and everything...why?"

Artemis chuckled. "Let me guess. I was such a monster when we first met that you're completely surprised I would do something noble."

Holly snorted. "To put it bluntly, yes."

"I took it up as a challenge. This is perhaps the most competitive market that actually benefits more than the company on top." He followed her gaze to the colours in the sky. "It was the perfect field for me. Challenging, profitable and one that will ensure the world remembers my name long after I am gone."

"So it has nothing to do with the environment."

"As a matter of fact, it does," Artemis steepled his fingers. "Global warming is a real issue, Major. How can I be assured that people will remember my name till the end of time if the Earth is going to die in a couple of hundred years more?"

Holly blinked, computing this statement for a brief moment, before it struck her and she almost immediately punched him in the arm.

"You are _such a_ –" she started, but noticed that he was holding back a chuckle.

Holly scowled. "That was a joke, wasn't it?"

"Obviously, unless your sense of humor isn't intelligent."

The elf shook her head. "Any more of this and I swear I'm going to chuck you overboard."

"Butler wouldn't be very pleased."

"Who said he was going to see the body, Fowl?"

Artemis actually laughed. He looked good, doing that. And this joking thing was new, but it definitely suited him. _Heck,_ thought Holly. _A lot_ can _change in six years._

Then she realized what she had actually thought.

 _D'Arvit, what the hell? Did you honestly just think Artemis Fowl looks good?_

She coughed to cover up her colouring cheeks. Perhaps, given the backdrop of sunset, he wouldn't notice it anyway.

 _Wake up. He's a Mud Man. A very sneaky, annoying one whose front teeth deserve to be knocked out. He doesn't look good. You're only thinking that because he's doing something for the planet._

Holly convinced herself that this reasoning made a lot of sense, and was soon back to her professional self after a temporary lapse in coherent thought.

"We need to get off this boat," she said. "It doesn't seem very dangerous, but I'd rather not stick around in one of Opal's venues."

"Not right now," replied Artemis, hands in the pockets of his floral beach shorts. "We'll have to wait till the decks are empty. We'll then proceed to the communications room that we came across earlier and find out exactly where we are, how long it will take us to get to shore or another vessel, and get a message across to your peers in Haven. If Opal Koboi is as bad a threat as you claim, help will arrive shortly."

Holly nodded. "Good plan," she said, before remembering that one _never_ complimented Artemis Fowl.

Artemis grinned. "Tell me about it."

••

 **A/N; This fanfic won't have as much romance as most of my fics, but fear not. I doth enjoy tormenting Artemis and Co., so rest assured you WILL find the sort of things you found in this chapter *winkwink*. And yes, Root/Vinyayà is a legitimate ship.**

 **I would love to hear your opinions. And I'm evil, so no update until you review.**

 ***is rubbing palms in villainous delight***


	4. Chapter 4: Portal

**Author's Note;**

 **Special mention must be made of the reviewers of the last chapter, because I thoroughly enjoyed your reviews :)!**

 **Pokegeek151, FlawedSyntax, Elisarah, the last book keeper, Courage and Love, Foaly's techie (guest), and Saturn (guest) as well as everyone who's reading or following. Thank you for making my day.**

 **Disclaimer: (I have been forgetting these oml I'm evil) I do not own AF or related characters.**

 **Without further ado, let's get to chapter four! PS:- Do NOT skip paragraphs.**

—•:;*—

CHAPTER FOUR: PORTAL

The market district of Haven City was an area mostly bustling with life and activity. It was the hub of grocery stores, small diners and tattoo parlors, even hosting a couple of clothing and accessory shops, and most of Haven's youth spent slouchy days around the pavements. This was where the ones kicked out of their homes immediately ended up. Usually, as soon as news reached their parents that they were trying to get ear tattoos, the LEP was called and asked to retrieve their "lost" children. Most officers found this a tad annoying, but the good part was that the location was near guaranteed.

Because of this reason, Root was explicitly familiar with the market district. Mentioned above is something of an urban tradition; he had had to go on these annoying missions during his rookie days.

Root walked alongside a nervous Foaly, whose eyes were fixed on some kind of tracking device. The rest of the squadron followed at a distance, keeping watch on the teenage fairies engaged in various dangerous activities. There was one sprite who was trying to fly from the top of a squat building with his wings clipped, cheered on by a group of friends. The squad's duty was to make sure none of said dangerous activities interfered with their mission, which was of utmost importance.

Foaly suddenly clopped to a halt.

"In a building down that alley," he pointed down what was luckily for them probably the darkest, most foul-smelling alley in the area. There was an open sewer somewhere nearby, and likely some unattended garbage bins. "One heat signature, and these," he showed Root the screen. "Are heat signatures generated by a number of computers. We've found our hacker, Julius. He's alone."

"Don't call me Julius," snapped Root almost instinctively. "And are you certain he's alone?"

"One hundred percent," said Foaly, sounding a little insulted. "Are you suggesting that my device doesn't have the _best_ sensors in the market or anywhere else?"

The Commander promptly ignored him (years of practice. He was getting good at ignoring Foaly) and motioned to the squad of officers.

"I want you surrounding the building from all sides. Is it a big one, Foaly?"

"No. Very small. Two-storied."

"In that case, I'll go in alone, but I need every one of you on alert," Root upholstered his Neutrino blaster and pointed himself toward the alleyway. "Let's go."

.

Root kicked the door twice, but the rusted hinges refused to yield and all he got was a swirling cloud of musky dust that clouded up the whole room. He had taken the steps to the second floor of the completely abandoned tatto parlour; the flaking stickers on the wall were dead giveaway.

Grunting, he kicked at the door again. Their quarry would have realized his presence by now, but the building was surrounded. He had no escape.

"Fronddammit," swore Root, before pulling the trigger of his blaster. The result almost made him smile; he would've, if Holly's life hadn't been on the line. Wasting no time, the Commander walked in through the hole he'd just made and pointed his gun at the first thing he saw.

The man on the swivel chair was facing a collection of monitors, headphones over his ears. He hadn't even noticed him enter. Root grunted. That was fine. He did love the element of surprise.

The elf cocked the gun against the back of the hacker's head, but he didn't receive any sort of response. Root frowned.

How could you miss a gun against your head? Unless...

He kicked the chair once and it spun to face him.

The pixie's posture was slouched and his eyes were blank. Dead.

"D'Arvit," muttered Root. And that was before the door with the hole slammed shut on its own, and one of solid steel dropped down in front of it, sealing his exit. His eyes immediately darted toward the only window in the room and he found it covered with the exact material. Were it not for the ghostly blue light of the monitors, the room would be pitch dark.

Apparently the people behind this read his mind and the monitors powered down, shutting off.

He switched on his communicator and got Foaly on line. "Foaly? I want the team sent in."

There was no reply.

Root scowled. "Foaly?"

But why would he reply? After all, Root's communicator was the one that wasn't working.

"D'Arvit," breathed the Commander again, eyeing the blank screen with disdain. But that was fine. Surely they had noticed the window slam shut, or something. He couldn't be trapped in here for long.

Root didn't hesitate anyway. He fired a shot at the steel door, which bounced it right back at him. He was prepared, and shot it with another. His intention had been to make some noise. Alert the team outside.

Root froze to the sound of a familiar maniacal chuckling. Not lowering his neutrino, he slowly turned to the direction of the noise.

" _Hello_ ," managed a breathless Opal Koboi, whose face was on every monitor now. She had clearly been laughing a lot. "Hello, Commander. Have you missed me?"

Root's face turned an angry colour of red. He resisted the urge to shoot her image in the face.

"What do you want, Koboi?"

Opal smiled sweetly. "You are very smart, Commander. Alerting your peers with sound. I hate to break it to you, but they aren't going to get in easily. Not until you're long gone anyway. Perhaps then I'll invite them."

"So you plan on killing me. Very original."

The pixie wagged a finger. "Oh no, Commander. Why would I do such a brutal, easy thing? I am a mastermind. A genius. I have better plans."

Root could feel himself start to lose it. He cocked the gun and put his finger in the trigger guard.

"And what plans are those, you freak?"

"That's not how we talk to a lady."

"You a hardly a lady. More on the megalomaniac side."

Opal sighed. "Oh dear. I fear you do have a point. But let's get back to my little plan, Julius. I'm not going to kill you; just whisk you far, far away from here. And you will be desperately trying to find your way back home while Haven City burns."

Root frowned. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to take away all their heroes. There won't be anyone left to save the day," Opal teasingly held a finger over a big, exaggerated button on her console. "And don't worry, you don't have to bid me goodbye. You're going to be seeing a lot of me in the near future."

"At least tell me what you did with Holly."

"Holly?" Opal acted surprised. "Oh, I'd nearly forgotten. Don't fret, dear Commander. She's enjoying a luxury cruise in the Atlantic as we speak. She will be joining you shortly, but don't take any hope in that. Where I'm sending you is a place worse than the depths of Atlantis. More akin to the depths of hell."

The communicator in his hand started to vibrate, and it took him less than a second to realize it was Foaly calling. He hit the answer button, but it was too late. Koboi's digit was already on the important-looking button.

"Good luck, Julius," she said, before slamming her fist down on it and erupting into shards of ear-splitting laughter as Root felt his entire being shudder slowly, slowly out of its realm.

••

 **9:30 A.M, the Atlantic.**

Holly was glad that this time she woke up without a Mud Man to share the same blanket with, but her joy was only momentary; because she looked to the floor on her right, and her horrible Hawaiian shirt was not there.

She growled low in her throat. _Someone_ was going to get hurt _really bad_ the next time she saw him.

Holly groggily sat up, trying to ignore the intense anger she felt that now she only had the underwear she'd slept in and the brown shorts she'd woken up with the previous day. Alright, it wasn't so bad; after all, coupled with the shorts her one-piece wouldn't make for an altogether indecent getup, but there was still the fact that...ugh, Fronddamn shirt-stealing Mud Man.

She threw off the blankets she'd wrapped herself in, slipped on the shorts and stood up, looking around the cabin. There was no sign of Artemis save for the place he'd slept in. Which was also quite neatly arranged. Holly sighed a quiet sigh of relief. Well, no kidnapper would give him the time to make his bed, so that shirt thief was alright for now.

She walked out onto the deck, where the party had already started; Holly spent a couple of minutes searching for Fowl's face in the crowd. She spotted the female elves from earlier, but no sign of shirt thief.

She frowned to herself and proceeded to the upper deck, hoping it wouldn't be too difficult tracking him down. She was already in a bad mood as it was.

Holly winced as the music blared in her sensitive ears, wondering how no other fairy on-board was complaining. Too drunk. She passed the captain's room and even more throngs of wildly partying fairies, each which she had to spend time making doubly sure did not include Artemis.

 _Things could not get any worse_ , she grumbled to herself, and fate promptly decided she come across a bunch of drunk sprites with nil respect for personal space.

"Heyyy babe," slurred one, slinging a skinny green arm around her shoulder. "Wanna be my...hic...wanna be my spring flower?"

Holly scowled. She didn't understand the expression, but she wasn't going to find out anyway. "I'm warning you once."

"Mmm, baby, you smell so–"

Without a second thought, Holly lifted her elbow and smashed it into his face, which sent the poor fairy reeling backwards, stumbling over his feet.

Unfortunately, this clique was heavily drunk, so this didn't seem to bother the others in the slightest bit and it apparently made her appear even more attractive.

"I'm a better guy than I look," bragged one of the sprites, hovering over to her. "Wanna–"

Holly proceeded to smack him the jaw, and it was enough to make him crumple to the floor of the deck.

An elf among them whistled. "Wow! Gimme some of that, will y–"

 _With pleasure_ , thought Holly, kicking him in the side. This seemed to do the trick; the other guys immediately backed off, shrinking behind a table.

She trudged on forward, ignoring the gawking faces of the other fairies who'd seen the fight.

Half an hour passed with no sign of the infuriating human, and Holly admitted to herself that she was growing worried. And just as she did, on the highest deck, she bumped into a disturbingly familiar hairy behind.

" _Mulch?_ " exclaimed the elf, backing off few paces, putting as much distance between herself and that nightmarish bumflab as possible. "I...what are _you_ doing here?"

Mulch turned to her and nodded in greeting. "Good day to you too, Captain."

"Major," corrected Holly automatically, before she noticed Artemis beside Mulch, looking down at her with an amused expression. "You'd better explain things fast, Fowl."

"Good morning, Holly," Artemis turned his gaze toward the sea, and she would've noticed those _ridiculously gorgeous, sculpted_ collarbones if she wasn't too busy with the fact that he was indeed wearing her shirt. She would have her revenge soon. Nobody stole Holly Short's shirt and lived to tell the tale. "Nice weather, isn't it?"

Holly still hadn't got over her initial shock of bumping into Mulch, and her next words came out a little uncertainly. "What's going on? And did you just call me Holly?"

"I gave this to our pungent friend here," Artemis held up a single gold coin, the infuriating smug look that she hadn't seen in all of six years once more on his face. Or rather, a minidisc, judging by the way it glinted colours in the sun. She distinctly recognized it, but not quite; it _had_ been a long time ago. "The recall trigger I mentioned before. I have my memories back, Holly, and I remember exactly who Opal Koboi is."

"All thanks to yours truly," Mulch accepted his own compliment with a gracious bow. "You're most welcome."

The elf spent a moment staring agape, her eyes wide in disbelief over the unexpected turn of events.

"You...he...what?"

Mulch sighed. "You look smarter than you actually are."

This comment was enough for her to recover, and she promptly side-kicked him in rear. "Watch it, convict. I'm already in a bad mood today."

"Ow," Mulch looked hurt. "And I'm not a convict anymore. Mud Boy here worked a miracle with my–"

Artemis raised an eyebrow at him. Mulch froze.

"Oh right. She's a cop."

Luckily for him, Holly had other concerns. "All I care is how _he_ turned up and how _you_ got your memories back. And I want to hear it clearly."

Artemis nodded. "It's quite simple, although Mr Diggumms' presence here is an utter coincidence. I presented this disc to Mulch under the guise of the coin you gave me after Russia. It was the recall trigger, Major. Contained within are a series of video clips addressed to Butler and myself. Mulch found me today and showed me the disc. I decrypted it and watched the videos on one of the on-board computers."

Holly stared at the dwarf. "And does he know how _we_ ended up here?"

"I have told him everything. He wasn't put here by Koboi."

"I snuck on board," admitted Mulch shamelessly. "Their security was the worst. Dope, like they were mesmerized or something."

Artemis frowned. "Yes, about that. The Mesmer cannot be used on fairies, but...I have feeling everyone aboard this yacht is under the influence of it."

"Because nobody cares you're human?" asked Holly.

"Precisely. These fairies have been asked beforehand to ignore that and enjoy themselves. My question is _why_ Koboi would go that extent– perhaps a certain location is needed for her plans?"

Mulch raised a hand. "Then what's the party for?"

"Exactly. My best bet would be as distraction from something we would have noticed otherwise..." Artemis paused. "The ship is crowded and loud so that we won't see or hear some kind of ambush. That's the likeliest explanation."

Holly cast a weary glance over the crowded third deck. It wasn't a nice thing waiting to be ambushed.

"We need to get off this ship," she said, something setting her elfin intuition alight. She met Artemis's eyes. "Now."

It was at that moment that the entire yacht rocked, tossed and battered by some huge wave, but none of the reveling fairies reacted in any way but excited screams. Holly ran over to the railing, the Mud Man and dwarf following suit.

She gasped.

There, less than a kilometer off from the yacht's hull, the mouth of a massive tornado that led to the depths of the deep sea, a whirlwind, a tear leading to an abyss that could very well pass off as a black hole. And the ship was caught in its spurring radius. And now she could hear it, and it was loud, drowning out the loud music and sounding like someone had removed the plug off the hole in the sink; gurgling, growling, and very, very loud.

Another massive wave tossed the ship further towards its doom, and it spun faster in the whirlwind. Fairies aboard screamed in elation, rushing over to the railings so they could see and _feel_ the thrill of the ride. A pang of hopeless dread dropped itself on Holly's shoulders. All of these people were mesmerized. None of them had any clue how dangerously close they were to a terrible death.

Artemis stuttered something that she didn't quite catch.

Frond, did he actually _stutter_?

 _That's how bad the situation is._

"We need to come up with a plan, Fowl," said Holly, looking at him.

"Plan," Artemis blinked. "Yes, of course. A plan. Lifeboats?"

"On it," said Mulch, running over to the steps of the deck. "I'll get one ready, hurry up."

Artemis was about to follow him, but she caught his arm. "Artemis, what about all these people? We can't just let them–"

"No." He suddenly sounded like his usual calm, collected self again. Had she imagined that relapse? "We can't let them die, Holly, but under their current states they won't feel a thing."

Holly shook her head. "No. There has to be some way. You're a genius. Think."

"This can't be it," said Fowl. "Opal obviously has bigger parts of her plan, and there has to be someone to stop her. We need to get off this ship. Trust me, Major, we can save more lives that way."

Holly was about to retort angrily when they shuddered even closer to the suction. The whirling masses of water picked them up and turned the yacht on its path even faster than before, and Holly would have found herself overboard if her human counterpart hadn't caught her hand in time.

"We're too close to the stern," he explained, and, without letting her speak, dragged her onwards and then down the steps hurriedly, making a dash for where Mulch should be waiting with a lifeboat.

All they found was Mulch.

"No boats," said the dwarf miserably. "We're actually gonna die this time."

The abyss made a loud suction noise again, and Holly groaned. "On the plus side, I don't think a boat could've saved us anyway."

Her hand was still in Artemis's, but she let it stay that way. It was good to have a friend at a time like this. Then there was also the dwarf she'd shared many adventures with, although technically he wasn't part of Opal's plan.

Then Artemis suddenly frowned in thought, released her, and took several risky steps toward the railing despite the tremendous speeds they had reacted. Holly and Mulch followed, daring to hope the Mud Boy had an idea. This time, the elf clutched the railing like her life depended on it (it very much did) and followed his gaze toward the deadly plughole.

"It isn't real," said Artemis suddenly.

"What?" spluttered Holly.

"It's an artificially generated one," he explained, and even Mulch was listening this time. "The windspeed isn't up to the speed of the whirlwind, don't you think?"

Mulch lifted both eyebrows in surprise. "How did I not notice?"

"I am asking myself the same question. The effect of getting drowned in there when the boat capsizes is going to be as real as it looks, but there may be a possibility to turn the generator off."

"How?" asked Holly, a nervous sense of urgency creeping into her voice. She couldn't imagine how they were just standing here talking when the yacht was being tossed around like an errant toddler's rubber duck. "It's probably planted at the bottom of the sea."

"I have studied these kind of machines of fairy make," Artemis gritted his teeth against the rough spraying of the sea and the sickness that came with the boat's spinning. "That generator can be destroyed in an emergency with the right amount of pressure."

"Pressure?" repeated Holly.

"That's where our friend Mr Diggumms comes in, but I fear it is going to be risky."

Mulch gaped. " _What_? Are you honestly...dwarf gas? Yes but... _how?_ "

"Once we reach the eye," said Artemis wearily.

"I have to...to dive in and..."

"This is madness," snapped Holly. "It isn't going to work, it's only going to get him killed sooner!"

Artemis closed his eyes. "If you want to save everyone..."

"The dwarf always gets it," muttered Mulch. "Am I being given a choice?"

"I'm sorry, old friend."

"And now you start talking to me like I'm going to die."

"You aren't," persisted Artemis. "If you can generate enough–"

The fairies on-board screamed in elation as the yacht violently jerked into the path of the fastest, and last segment of the whirlwind before the eye, and the speed was too much now. If any of them released so much as a finger, they would be whisked away to the sea and drown the fastest. Their heads spun and threatened to roll off their shoulders. Many fairies puked. It was a blessing Mulch didn't.

"Are...you going to do t-this?" Holly managed through clenched teeth. "I'll...actually give you a medal, I swear."

Mulch somehow managed to roll his eyes. "I deserve total amnesty," he muttered. "For future crimes as well."

The yacht shuddered and jerked up on a wave, sending everyone sliding violently backwards. Mulch was thrown into Holly, who was in turn pummeled into Artemis. The Mud Man, by some miracle, could retain his grip on the railing and saved them a painful ride smashing into the glass of the cabin. Not everyone was that lucky, though, but the mesmerized crowd didn't care and found unprecedented excitement in it all.

"Mulch," grunted Holly, getting to her feet with slow difficulty. Her knees buckled under her, and they felt cold. "Do it."

But they had entered the circumference of the eye and there was no time to be wasted, and while the yacht spun at windbreaking speeds in its last stand against the current, Mulch cursed, and, making a truly heroic decision, let loose a spur of dwarf gas that propelled him over the railing and towards the eye.

The last thing Holly could remember was screaming for him, immediately regretting his part in the plan, before the yacht capsized completely and was spiraled fast into the depths of the merciless Atlantic.

•••

 **Author's Note; Short chapter because CLIFFHANGER!**

 **Review for an update!**


	5. Chapter 5: Awaken

**Author's Note; Oh, how I love tormenting my readers. Oh well. That's because I love you guys. Let's get onto chapter five, then, because this is where the adventure REALLY begins. Who's excited? I know I am!**

 **Don't skip paragraphs (Sorry, Sasa, I'm quite the hypocrite ;)) :The setting is extremely important, plus this story is intentionally reader-interactive. I'll tell you soon enough why you should be paying extra attention; not right now, though; that would serve as a BIIG spoiler. Read the new summary, you** ** _might_** **have a hint...**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl. If you're in this fandom and don't know who does, then. Well. I'm baffled. Anyhow, on with it!**

—•:;*"—

CHAPTER FIVE: AWAKEN

.

Root had come to his senses with a parched tongue and eyes that hadn't seen sunlight for years, save for the artificial glo-strips of Haven City, so the blinding light and the sudden heatwave that settled on his entire being the moment he regained conciousness was, to say the least, unbearable.

He had staggered at first to get up, almost as if the heat was physically pushing him down, before he'd finally managed and got a proper look at the new land he was in. His first thought was _desert._ His second thought was _I'm going to kill that pixie._

He could be certain of the time that had passed since his arrival because the tormenting heat of the vast sandy plain was giving way to something a little tolerable as dusk started to descended upon the strange new world. Of course he had no idea where he actually _was_ ; Root's best bet was the surface, in the Sahara or something, before he'd noticed that none of his equipment was functioning properly. If we was actually just on the surface, Foaly would've overridden Opal's hacking and contacted him by now– his communicator wasn't broken and worked perfectly fine, except that it didn't pick up a sufficient signal strength. Root snorted to himself. Stone Age technology.

He had come across nothing. It felt like days now, though he knew it had only been hours, and his nerves were on edge. There was nothing ahead or behind him but an endless expanse of bright yellow desert and his own stumbling footprints. His tongue begged for water and his head screeched for shade, but he could provide neither, so he simply let his temper grow and trudged on, knowing that Opal would have at least had the courtesy to let him be in acceptable form before his eventual painful death.

Root kept himself going with thoughts of Opal's threats, and a fleeting sense of hope that Holly was alright. She couldn't be dead _yet,_ whatever that maniacal pixie had planned. Not yet. Not so soon.

It must have been another hour later that he finally gave up, succumbing to the torturous dehydration that seemed to grasp at his very soul.

And he was glad he did, because for whatever reason, he next woke up inside a tent.

Root lifted himself up on his elbows and scrutinized his surroundings. It was the desert sand that made the ground of the small tent, but he had been given a thick blanket to rest on. The cramped space was, however, packed with various odds and ends; there was a cupboard that overflowed with stacks of paper, its drawers open and bearing a variety of different talismans. Root blinked. Among them were coins on strings that hung over the edges of the drawers, and what looked like real hair had been woven into miniature dreamcatchers that hung on the knobs. Boxes were piled atop each other around the tent walls, full, also sporting the weirdest combination of things Root had seen as of lately. He sat up straight and gave himself a good view of the contents. Drums made of animal skin. Flutes carved out of bones. Dusty crystal spheres. He was starting to lose hope over his apparent _rescuers_ ; they had issues. Seriously.

He noticed droplets of dried blood soaked into the sand and that drew his attention to his left wrist. He didn't know how it had happened, but it been cut and hadn't sealed up. He focused a few sparks of magic into it.

No sparks came.

And just as he was about to break into a string of colourful gnommish curses, a wicked voice greeted him from behind.

"And so wakes the weary traveler," snickered the Mud Man. "Let me tell you one thing about your world, dear fairy. It's beyond saving now."

••

Cold. All he felt was cold, and water, and the suffocating sensation that came with them both before his eyes shot open to an unfamiliar world and he sat upright gasping for breath.

Mulch rubbed his eyes tiredly. Where was he? He could see the edge of a roof and a ghostly grey wall, and it was wet earth that he say on. His toes wiggled a little worriedly. There was something wrong with this setting. He didn't know what, but there defenitely was.

The second sensation that returned to him was smell. He smelt something damp, something a non-dwarf would call gross, but something he chose to put as _natural._ A sewer. And if there was a sewer around...

How had he got here? Hadn't he drowned? Hadn't he tried to save a yacht full of mesmerized fairies?

Mulch groggily stood up. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that he was alive, right? And this was all the Mud Boy's fault.

He found himself in some sort of alleyway between two apartment buildings, but it was somehow oddly disconcerting. Mulch was a dwarf. He was used to dirty, dark places. This wasn't a normal dirty, dark place. There were no rabid cats around. No diseased rats. Getting another good glimpse of the weird world around him, Mulch chose simply to fall back onto the ground, the wet, soggy, alien ground, and fall back into the realm of the unconcious.

.

Holly woke up to the feeling of a cold hand against her face, but her body was tired, so her eyes merely fluttered awake instead of reacting the way they normally would have. But she saw who the hand belonged to, and her muscles visibly relaxed again.

"Major?"

"I'm here, Artemis," murmured the elf, reaching up to his wrist. Frond, that hand was cold. But she held on before he had the chance to withdraw. "What happened?"

"I'm fairly uncertain myself, but I do recollect a little."

"Sit," instructed Holly, her head feeling a tad woozy. A little hesitantly, Artemis sat on the bunk, beside her, and she did not let his cold hand leave her face. Something told her she needed that bit of contact with the living world to stay awake.

"It was some sort of portal that appeared the moment Mulch stopped the generator," he explained. "He was the first to get caught into it, being the closest, but it seemed that you and I were supposed to enter by default. And as such I can conclude that Mulch is somewhere around this building, and that this is the next phase of Opal's plan."

"Mulch is alive," sighed Holly, relieved. "Opal...oh, Frond, what I wouldn't give to kill that pixie." She looked at him, frowning a little. "And...those fairies? What happened to those fairies?"

Artemis avoided her gaze. "Mulch stopped the generator, but by then it was too late."

The elf snapped wide awake, moving his hand away. "What? Are you telling me that...that all those people..."

"We couldn't save them."

Holly felt anger in her veins. Entertainment, that's what it was. Easily a hundred innocent lives, all serving as entertainment in Opal's grand scheme. Her blood boiled at the thought. Wherever this was going, whatever the pixie had in store for them, they would survive it, and they would defeat her if it meant she had to put a bullet through Koboi's head. She didn't care how cold the notion was, it was incredibly tempting.

Holly was saved the effort of putting these thoughts into words when the door at the end of the long room creaked open from the other side.

"Is your comrade awake, Mr Fowl?" asked a female voice. Holly tried turning to look, but she found her neck too stiff.

"She's awake," replied Artemis almost casually. "I must thank you for your hospitality."

The voice giggled, and drew nearer as the woman approached. Holly was still trying to get a look without fracturing her collarbones.

"It's a pleasure," she said courteously. "I can see what you're trying to do, by the way. Your charm won't work on me, though you're welcome to try." She came into Holly's view. "Welcome, Major Short. I trust you are recovering well?"

The woman was human, perhaps in her late thirties, and very pretty at that, but her most notable feature was her odd ensemble, in some sort of traditional ball gown complete with puffy sleeves and hair accessories. Her hair was a light blonde and her eyes were dark brown, and she was wearing a pleasant smile. It was difficult to say if said smile was authentic, because there seemed to be some kind of negative emotion in her face as well. Something like a harboured sadness, or fear.

Holly nodded mutely, too questioning to speak. Fowl had yet to explain to her _all_ that was going on.

As if reading her expression, the woman nodded in understanding. "Alright, I'll give you a few minutes to familiarize yourself. Meanwhile, I sent scouts out to search for your dwarf friend."

Holly found voice to speak. "Artemis?"

"She's here to help," assured Artemis, tapping her reassuringly on the shoulder.

"Honour's all mine," smiled the woman, before she left the room without another word. Holly stared after her.

"How can you be sure of that?" she asked finally.

Artemis shrugged. "I can't. But she _did_ provide us the facilities to recover and, judging by the facts I've learned from the guard, she might need our help. And may be able to help us in return."

Holly blinked, still processing this information. "Guard?" she repeated.

Artemis gestured toward the far wall opposite the door, where a man in a leather kit stood completely still and quiet. Holly nearly jumped. How had she not noticed him before?

"So...she's actually going to find Mulch for us?"

"She almost certainly will, seeing as her men are the ones who found us."

Holly nodded slowly. "Alright. I guess we're sort of safe for now. Compared to what we went through on that boat..." She shuddered at the memory. "Koboi will pay."

"How's your neck?" asked Artemis, changing the subject.

"How do you know?"

"Our host had a doctor inspect your injuries," he opened a hand. "May I?"

Holly gave him a puzzled look. "May you what?"

Artemis rolled his eyes. "What do you usually do about it when you have a stiff neck?"

"Massage it, I guess?"

"Ah. So your grey matter wasn't all flushed out."

Holly ignored the insult, and turned her back to him. She was still in the one-piece with her shorts, and Artemis still wore that shirt.

She felt her muscles tense, then relax and sink back as he kneaded his fingers into the area around her shoulders. It felt good, and it was defenitely soothing. She would've even thanked him if it wasn't for the fact that he was...well, him. Perhaps his memories had changed him into a better person, but this was still Artemis Fowl, and he was still a world-class jerk.

As he worked his pianist fingers, Artemis gave her more essential details.

"Despite my best efforts, our host refused to reveal her name on the assumption that we _may not_ be the lost travelers she thinks we are. I did get treated to a lovely meal, though."

Holly snorted. "Hey, before we go into details, how are _you_ not afflicted with some injury?"

"Slight damage to my ribcage, but it's fine."

"Any damage to your ribs is bound to hurt, Mud Man."

"I had time to recover," said Artemis, and went on.

"We are in some kind of parallel world to our own, and this is the surface. The people hosting us are a group that has left their city in protest to the activities of the ruling class; a city by the name of Logos, that is never permanently in one place. It may remind you of certain literary classics."

"It doesn't," said Holly.

"I expected too much from you in that case. Very well. These people know who Opal Koboi is; a distinguished member of aforementioned ruling class. Our host was indeed quite intrigued when I mentioned that she sent us here as part of her grand scheme for vengeance. And that was all she told me, promising to come up with a few proposals to help us out in return for our services. Now that you're awake, it'll be any time now."

The elf sighed softly as his fingers loosened yet another set of tight muscles. "Thanks, Artemis," she said, before she could prevent herself.

Artemis grinned at the mistake, but did not comment. "We also need to find out how all of this relates to our world. Koboi's intentions can't just be to torture us while we're here. Surely she has plans for domination of Haven City."

"You remember her too well," noted Holly.

"Do I now? Well, like they say, great minds think alike."

"Are you implying that you–oh Frond, that feels good."

"Here?" He pressed the skin between her shoulder blades.

"Exactly there. Since when did you become so caring, anyway?"

Artemis paused a moment to raise an eyebrow at her, momentarily taken aback by the question. "Pardon?"

Holly thought back on what she said, wondering if she ought to correct herself, but decided she had worded it the best way. "You're obviously going soft, Mud Boy."

"I'm not a child."

"Mud _Man_ ," the elf amended. Noting that her neck no longer felt stiff, she looked at him over a shoulder. "Back then, after Russia, you weren't the same boy I loathed for the kidnapping. You came a long way in a short bit of time. But I didn't think you would accept your old self that easily after six years."

Artemis shrugged. "It's not all my old self. Six years can change a person."

Holly frowned. "So...you've given up on crime?"

There was also the fact that there was definitely something fishy about his injury. Maybe she was being overly suspicious, but her elfin intuition had never been wrong.

Artemis raised an eyebrow, as if this was a _ridiculous_ question.

Holly amended herself. "And your full schedule allows room for it?"

"There's always room for crime," said Artemis, seemingly offended at the prospect. He grinned, though directing his attention toward the knock on the door.

"Ah. It seems they have retrieved our pungent friend."

•••

 **Haven City.**

Foaly's drive home was a miserable one, and the reasons were many.

First and foremost was his friend and commanding officer Julius Root's disappearance, followed by the immediate discovery of Opal Koboi's return and the soon enough involvement of the Council's usual _conspiracy_ theories, Internal Affairs, the press, and the LEP as a whole. It was no small matter that the demonic pixie genius was back and had somehow deemed Commander Root missing in action. There was also the fact to Foaly that Holly still hadn't made contact; it hadn't bothered most, though, because she was supposedly away on a _mission_. The gnomes on the Council had already been losing their minds. Foaly had had the sense not to bring Artemis Fowl into the equation.

All they had for investigation was a recording from Root's communicator just before he disappeared; complete with villainous cackling and a single statement: _Good luck, Julius._

The worst part was that Koboi could have already put her plan into execution. That they were unprepared but for one tidbit of information that they knew who would be behind things; it wasn't very pleasant, on the other hand, knowing that any moment now the goblin triads would start running rampant on the streets, or more bull trolls would turn up out of nowhere, or things would just start exploding. It wasn't pleasant at all. Given the above reasons, Foaly's drive home was indeed very, very miserable.

He turned onto the broad main road that lead directly to the suburbs and he felt a little bit of relief. At least he could get home and have a nice warm glass of sim coffee. Ah, he could smell it already, akin to real coffee beans, the steam wafting over to him from all the way across the room where Caballine, his loving wife, was already waiting to greet him–

Then the ground shook and rumbled, and before Foaly had the time to curse or even wonder, something slammed into his van and sent it skidding onto the pavement, tumbling on its side and causing the centaur inside to fall onto the hard glass of the window against the ground.

"What the..." started Foaly, the winced at the pain in his ribs as he tried to scramble over to the passenger seat and access the available door. He had no idea what had just hit him, but he was going to sue it for damages. There were too many pieces of priceless tech in this van.

Then he heard a noise he'd never heard before, and froze, his hand an inch from the doorknob.

The noise came again. It was a slow, low-noted murmur, but it was loud and nearby. It sounded...it sounded pitiful, like some creature had been tossed into the depths of Hades and was now calling out in fear, in anxious whispers, in tormented mourning for its own soul. But it ringed in his ears and it echoed, and it was everywhere.

A shiver ran up his spine and his nerves sat on edge. Whatever anomaly was producing those notes, it had been the same thing to ram into his vehicle. Something sent by Opal, no doubt, but the real question was...what? And why did it sound a hundred tormented souls in that voice? Perhaps it was a form of Mesmer intended to crush a person's willpower, because with each echo, Foaly felt his confidence crumble and a feeling of foreboding dread was starting to settle on his temples.

He lay back down on the door against the ground, feeling defeated. He wasn't going to be saved now anyway. Might as well let the haunting noises consume him, drag him into a slow, painful slumber rather than die with a struggle. Right?

He didn't get very far on this plan, though. Something in the rear seat detonated.

And just as Foaly snapped back to his senses and hurriedly scrambled for the door again, the back of the van exploded and he was sent hurtling to the outside world, where he landed miraculously without hitting his head on the wet pavement. Sim rain from last night. Foaly groggily sat up on his hind legs despite the fact that there were definitely more broken bones in his body this time.

The van was on fire, but it was a good distance away. The sheer force of the explosion had sent him, and most of its contents shooting outside a wide radius, which was quite fortunate. That had been an inactivated explosive device of his own design. Luckily, it was more the kind used at big parties as something of a firework substitute rather than an actual Lower Elements weapon, so Foaly found himself immensely thankful. But it had also served in allowing him to regain his senses; the noise didn't ring in his ears any longer, and he no longer felt bound to it.

Realizing that he had no time to waste, Foaly hurried to his feet and started walking. He had to reach home. Warn Caballine that Opal was sending some sort of evil spirit after him so that–

He soon came to the unfortunate realization that his wasn't the only vehicle that had hurtled into a pavement.

A dozen or so fairies were gathered up against one of the buildings, having had left their wrecked transport behind, and, as he walked to the scene with wide-eyed worry, he noticed that many of them had their hands clamped over their ears and that they were struggling to stay on their feet. Others had already passed out.

 _The noise_ , he realized. _That Mesmer._

Foaly also realized that he really should've just run home.

—

"Take a seat," said the gracious host, smiling as was her role. "We have matters to discuss, and it would help my case if you were comfortable. Would you like anything to eat?"

Artemis declined politely, but Holly really didn't feel inclined to ignore her growling stomach. Neither did Mulch, although unlike Holly, he'd picked up a rodent or two from around the building.

"Very well," continued the woman, satisfied when her guests had settled down. "I trust Artemis has briefed you both on our background?"

Mulch nodded with a larger than was believable chunk of roast chicken in his mouth.

"Alright. Then I'll get directly to the point."

"A couple of years ago, the current ruling class of Logos came into power and had such strong representation and support that our democratic government had to quit. They had methods, fairy magic...their leader, I believe, was Opal Koboi."

Holly scowled at the mere mention of the name.

"They took things a little too far when it came to _supporting_ the government," continued their host. "There were severe punishments for those who didn't. Opal's ruling started taxes, protests, a ridiculous number of national treason charges and a lot of innocent deaths because people dared to defy it."

"And this is why you left?" asked Artemis, the only one who hadn't starved for hours and currently wasn't more focused on the food.

"Not in the slightest," replied the woman. "We wouldn't forgo our home for things we could avoid. We could avoid the charges and the punishment of we didn't do anything stupid. But just as things started to settle down, Opal unveiled a new threat."

"This was a _test subject_ unleashed upon her rivals in preparation for something greater. She made contact with a class of creatures that aren't supposed to exist. The mythological beings of Pathos, a world that was until recently just literary fantasy to us. But their characters weren't exaggerated. They could wreak havoc and crush an ordinary person's spirit without moving so much a fist. I was head of the main protest group. My people were targeted and started falling victim one by one."

"These creatures weren't intended to kill; rather they enslaved you in a world of limitless torment, or something like that. It's a theory. All we know for sure is that victims end up paralyzed, brain-dead or in a coma, and we have tried everything to get them back."

"That's why our group left Logos. And many groups followed afterwards, not wanting to share the same city those creatures were kept in. We're here now, but won't be for long. We know that we're being searched for, but this is possibly the most secure reserve at the moment. We don't venture too far out, though. We're trying to save the few of us who're left."

"I'm not asking you a favour only we will benefit from, Mr Fowl," she turned to face Artemis, meeting his piercing gaze with hers. The lines of stress around the woman's eyes made her look ten years older than she really was. "Because, as you have revealed to me, Opal Koboi originally came from your world. We are the people she's testing the creatures on. Once they've reached their potential and she has them properly under her control, she will almost certainly unleash them on your world. If you don't stop her here and now, we both lose. Opal wins."

Artemis took a moment to process this information. "And how do you know we're capable of stopping Opal?"

The woman smiled warmly. "Because sources inform me that you have done so in the past. But don't worry, you won't be on your own. You will have my people."

Holly finally decided to join in on the conversation, although she had finished her meal a long time ago.

"These Pathos creatures. What're they like?"

—

The ground shuddered again, and the ringing stopped in everyone's ears. Everyone who was still conscious followed the tremors with their eyes, frozen stiff, afraid to move. Foaly found himself standing at the very front of the group.

A figure emerged from the gurgling black smoke that rose from his destroyed van, and it was a distance away– but the most obvious thing about Opal's monster was that it was _slow_. It was a tall figure, several heads taller than the average human adult, and it was lean and hunched. But there was something oddly twisted about its sluggishly moving figure. Then Foaly noticed the disproportionate huge hands that hung limply at its sides and the way its head bobbed loosely in a drunkard fashion, as if it might roll off and hit the ground any moment. It was taking ages to move. They could all just get away now.

—

Artemis leaned forward with interest. "So, different humanoid body types, sluggish movement, some sort of long-distance mesmerizing ability."

"It's more like losing your sense of rationality. You forget that you should be running. You decide you'd rather just die," the woman gazed over one of the many portraits on the walls. "And not all of them are slow, Artemis. That's only a particular breed, the most common one. But they're the worst."

Mulch reached over for another glass of the drink. "Why? What does it do?"

—

Just as the thought occurred, most of the panicked fairies did take off in the other direction but they didn't make it very far. Something stopped them, and without explanation, they crumpled to the wet road, unmoving.

Foaly felt his breath come in ragged strokes. If the _thing_ could manipulate them from such a distance, he wasn't eager to find out what it could do up close. The thing started approaching them. Nobody moved. Foaly envied the unconcious fairies.

The creature tilted its bobbing head at the slightest angle, and stared at them with lifeless eyes. No lenses. Blank pupils. Foaly could make out its features now, make out the rubbery white skin that looked like it was prone to staining. Its limbs were a collection of firm knots although matchstick thin. Curved, short claws extended from the fingers of its drooping large hands. And its mouth was a thin line, its head bald and shriveled.

He couldn't move. He didn't want that same fate.

Then the thing looked directly at him, and he could tell because of its shift in posture.

—

"Its worse than fatal. If you aren't immune or spared at the last moment, eternal suffering is the best bet. We've only one person who's woken up from it. Most of our doctors pass off his explanations as the ramblings of a traumatized child but..."

"But?"

"But according to him it's a nightmare in there. You're in a coma or brain-dead to the rest of the world but you have it much worse in the place you're sent to. Our literary classics fantasize this place as a place of suffering for lost souls whose bodies are yet to face death. We call it Ethos."

—

Foaly didn't know what happened next. It clapped its hands or something, sent a shockwave that rippled the buildings on the street, but he didn't know what happened to him or the any of the others. He only remembered hitting the ground, and he only remembered how his nightmares started.

•••

.

"Are you done yet?" called Artemis, who was still seated behind the bamboo screen with Mulch. "I cannot stand the smell of Mulch's sunscreen any longer."

The first bit of Holly's reply was muffled, but the rest came out clearly, "...go outside."

"Not in this state. It's bad enough one outsider has already seen me in this horrendous beachwear."

He heard her sigh exasperatedly. "Patience, Mud Man. I can smell him too. But there's no need to suffer with a D'Arvitting _dress_ for the rest of the evening, is there?"

Mulch snickered loudly so she'd hear it. "Gowns like the one our gracious host was wearing?"

The elf growled, but didn't reply.

Holly delved further inside the wardrobe, shuffling through tons of ridiculously heavy silk. If these were her options, she'd much rather stick to her one piece. Everything in the wardrobe was either a dress, a corset or a shoe with a heel. How did the women of this place even run during an emergency? It was no wonder they couldn't escape Opal's creatures.

Then something ticked to her, and she almost rolled her eyes. Yes, of course. Stupid.

Holly shut the wardrobe and walked over to the large chest of drawers in the cramped space, hoping she would would not be disappointed.

Exactly six minutes later– and what felt like forever plus infinity to Artemis– Holly slid open the yellowed bamboo screen and emerged with a satisfied expression on her face.

Artemis simply raised an eyebrow, but Mulch burst out laughing.

The elf scoffed at them both. "You would have reacted much more if I'd turned up in a dress."

"Can't disagree," said Artemis sarcastically. "Because it is perfectly normal for a lady to wear a shirt, dress pants and a _cravat_."

"Spare me the sexism," said Holly unconcernedly, checking herself in the mirror. Well, the cravat felt a little odd, but it was part of the set. "And don't bother denying it, but I look pretty good too."

Mulch snorted. "Shirt's a little short. A lot of men are going to stare. Take this one for example."

Artemis glared at him.

"I'm kidding, gee."

"Surprising this fits, though," murmured Holly, adjusting the long sleeves of her white shirt. "I did come across a lot of human-sized outfits, but this one turned out to be exactly suited for fairy proportions. Something else our gracious host isn't telling us?"

"Ah, yes, one additional detail I may have left out."

" _Forgotten_."

"I thought you would have guessed by now. In this world humans and fairies share the surface. Obviously. Opal can't be some sort of Queen of a city otherwise."

Holly crossed her arms, turning to face him. "You'd better not _forget_ in future, Artemis. It's probably going to cost us later."

"I did not forget. Merely assumed you would be observant."

"And for the last time can you tell me how your ribs healed so fast?"

Artemis appeared a little surprised at the question, but didn't show much of it. "Why does it bother you, Major? It just wasn't badly damaged to begin with."

"Whatever," she pointed toward the bamboo screens. "You'd better hurry up. I'm starting to suffocate because of that sunscreen."

.

"Seeing as you turned up as requested," the woman smiled. "You're accepting my offer?"

"Stop Koboi and you help us get home," said Holly, although she didn't feel very businesslike on account of the fact that the woman was human and therefore several heads taller than her. "In simple words."

"Yes," she gestured at some of the chairs arranged around the long table. "The others might be a little late, so please be seated. I'll give you some time to think again." She was just about to head out the door when she seemed to remember something. "Oh, and Major Short? You look lovely in that getup. I like your style."

Holly only had the time to spare a snide glance at Mulch before their host left the hall, closing the door behind her.

Artemis stayed quiet a moment before starting to talk. "Do either of you have doubts about this offer?"

Holly shook her head. "Doubts, yeah, but it's a place to start."

"We still don't know her name," Mulch pointed out.

"He's right," said Holly. "What if these people were put here by Opal? What if it's a trap?"

Artemis shrugged. "Then it's too well laid out. This building is some sort of collective residence, complete with personal effects like pictures and certificates. Utilities too. There are a cluster of smaller dwellings around this one, and this is located in a thick forest clearing. Paths have been cut as retreat routes and leading to a lake, which is their water supply. There's also an outdoor rifling range. These people have been living here a while."

"Opal wasn't creative enough to come up with a name?"

Artemis rolled his eyes. "Oh please, you think I haven't learnt that by now?"

"You found her name," snorted Holly. "I'm not even surprised. Went through her diary?"

"Nothing so rash, Major. I only spotted a certificate on display."

"So are you going to tell us?"

"It's better our gracious host doesn't know," replied Artemis coolly. "Here comes our assistance."

Holly and Mulch followed his gaze toward the door, which creaked open the slightest bit. They frowned, then someone kicked it open.

"GRAND ENTRANCE!" announced a blonde-haired boy who looked about fourteen, a wide grin on his face. "Hello! My mom told me about you guys, and guess what? I'm coming with you!" He waltzed over to the chair opposite Artemis's, pulled it out, and sat. "Sooo...what're your names? I'm Caleb, by the way. Ze Prince of Weirdness. I have an army of dolphins that fly and speak a mythical language."

Artemis raised an eyebrow.

"That's the reaction I always get," sighed Caleb, resigning himself to the fact. "Okay, let's get to know each other."

"Mulch Diggums," said Mulch, shaking his hand from across the table. It was quite a reach. "I think you have it in you to drive Artemis nuts, kid. We can be best friends."

Caleb laughed. "The pleasure's all mine. And you are Miss...?"

"Holly Short," said the elf, standing up a little in order to shake the offered hand. Seeing as he was a child, this was a little easier than would be of an adult human.

Caleb smiled charmingly. "I really like your outfit, by the way. My mom warned me to restrain my weirdoness in front of her guests, so I won't introduce you to my dolphin army. You should meet them sometime, though. I hear elves get along with dolphins well."

Holly gave Artemis a side glance, wondering what he was making of the boy's speech. To her surprise, he didn't look that confused, or incredulous. He simply shook the hand as well.

"Artemis Fowl the Second. Your mother brought us here."

"Which was a surprise," admitted Caleb. "We don't normally bring in any outsiders, because they may be Opal's spies. Unless you fell from a portal?"

"We did. Opal is a mutual enemy."

"Great! Oh, and by the way, did you meet Zone?"

"No..."

"Oh. Well, he's been standing there this entire time, but to be fair he _is_ good in sneaking around."

Holly immediately turned to spot the man in the leather kit from earlier, who was, as before, standing in unnoticeable quietness against the far wall. Again, it nearly made her jump.

"D'Arvit, how does he _do_ that?" she exclaimed in a whisper.

"It's his job," explained Caleb. "Something of a ninja bodyguard, I guess. I mean, he's not a ninja, but he can sneak up on you like one. Loyal guy, though. What's more, he's immune to the Freaks."

"Freaks?" asked Mulch.

"That's what kids call the monsters," shrugged Caleb. "They're actually portello-celestio-coke something, I don't know."

"I somehow doubt you got any of that right," noted Artemis. "And about this immunity..?"

Caleb grinned wickedly. "Did my mom tell how I survived the Freaks?"

Artemis frowned. "You're the one who recovered?"

The boy nodded. "She must've called me a traumatized patient. But I've always been this weird, in case you're wondering. Probably why no one believed the things I said about Ethos, even though I was scared as heck back then."

"Could you tell us?" asked Holly.

Caleb hesitated, but then he nodded. "I didn't spend a lot of time in there, but it was pretty bad. Everything's on fire and the sky's green, and pits of acid just crack open in the ground when they feel like it. The place smells like coal and sulphur. You can't even see when you have to because your eyes just start tearing until they sink into your sockets." He paused to think. "It's pretty darn scary, actually. I was crying for weeks when I woke up. Kept having these shunts back into there where I'd see more things, but wouldn't feel it."

Artemis nodded. "Do you have any idea what helped you escape?"

Caleb sighed. "No clue. But I developed some sort of immunity afterwards."

Artemis looked at Holly. "We need to first establish if we're immune, then. It can form the basis of future plans."

"Is there any safe way to do that?"

Caleb shifted uneasily. "Well, there's a safer way than meeting a Freak...buuuut it means testing if a tiger shark will eat you or not."

Holly gaped.

"Yeah," said the boy apologetically. "We can't just drop some blood into the tank, you'll have to get inside. If it tries to eat you, then you aren't immune. If it doesn't, you are. We have a tank in the basement."

"You're kidding. Right?"

"Sadly not. There _is_ yet another way, but it involves drinking a concoction of troll dung carbonated with dwarf gas, and you'll feel the after-effects for a month if you aren't immune, two weeks if you are."

"I'd prefer the sharks."

Mulch held a hand to his heart. "I am offended, Holly."

Artemis literally waved this conversation off with a dismissive flick of his wrist. "So you will be assisting us?"

Caleb grinned. "Yup. Me and our ninja bodyguard."

"Anyone else?"

"You don't need anyone else. Zone accounts for about six people."

Artemis looked hesitant, but he nodded. "I see. Well, less people means less liabilities and easy cover. Very well then. Our instructions are to penetrate the city of Logos and find the immunity serum that previous informants have uncovered. These are kept as precaution in case the...Freaks go awry, but through acquiring even a sample of it, it can be synthesized and used to our benefit."

Holly raised an eyebrow. "It sounds...simple."

"We've never been assigned _simple_ , Major," Artemis gave her a characteristic smirk. "In fact, I have a feeling that our journey to Logos is going to be the most perilous one yet."

•—•

Foaly awoke to the sound of his own heart on the monitoring machine.

"Uuugghh," he mumbled, rolling his head over to the side. Despite it being a bed suited for centaurs, every bone in his body ached. And then he remembered.

The creature, the darkness that followed, the hell with the green sky.

He sat up screaming.

"Foaly? Foaly!" The owner of the voice pushed his shoulders down, looking him in the eyes. "Are you alright? We had to remove a couple of glass shards–"

Foaly blinked. "V-Vinyayà?" he stammered. "Oh, Frond, where am I? Is this Haven?"

"Yes," answered the elf firmly. "Foaly, you need to rest. Caballine is waiting in the lobby. Are you alright with her visiting now?"

"Caballine," breathed the centaur. "She's alive. She's alive, right?"

"Alive, but very worried," Vinyayà set on the bedside chair. "After all, you're the only one who's woken up so far. The other fairies who went through that are...comatose."

"D'Arvit," swore Foaly. "That means they're...still there...in that blasted place–"

"What place?"

"It's...I'll tell you once I do my research," said Foaly, although he found it a miracle that he could even speak. The memories were coming back to him, the suffering, the pain, the screams he'd heard...where had he gone? Had that been part of Opal's plan as well?

Vinyayà nodded. "We understand that the thing...whatever it was that the cameras caught, that did this damage was sent by Koboi. Teams are underway looking for clues, anything that could lead us to her."

Foaly blinked again. His vision felt blurry. "Wing Commander, that...place I mentioned. Opal tried to send me there but it somehow failed. What if Julius and Holly–"

"Start doing your research the moment you're on your feet again," ordered Vinyayà sternly, though he was sure he detected a crack in her composure. "And don't worry about it, centaur. They're both tough soldiers. They'll survive."

Foaly smiled at her weakly. "You're right. And we'll get them back. We need them at a time like this."

Vinyayà stood up to leave. "Damn straight. And your job is to recover fast so you can help us get them back. Is that understood?"

Despite everything, Foaly managed a grin. "Won't fail you, Wing Commander."

If she'd known the real reason behind his expression, she wouldn't have been too happy, and that's putting it lightly.

—•—

 **Author's Note;**

 **So we add villains, good people, monsters and cravats into our plot– yep, a recipe for guaranteed CHAOS!**

 **Be sure to drop me a review! Reviewers get mentioned next chapter, and replies, too, will be posted on the next chapter so that I can reply to guests as well. Also, this was a tough Chapter to write, so I do want to know what you think of it. Please follow and favourite as well; the encouragement makes me writer more and update faster ;)**

 **Any guesses/predictions? Any suggestions? I bet what's coming next will strike you as a HUUUUUGE surprise ;)**

 **Because things are getting exciting...**


	6. Chapter 6: Nightmare

**Author's Note; Firstly, a word out to the reviewers of the previous chapter!**

 **Courage and Love: Thank you so much for that! Yup, did come up with it all on my own. I'm glad you find it creepy, that was the intention ;) Well, we shall eventually learn why our host is super-mysterious, but not much can be said at the moment about that. Also, your prediction is a 100 percent correct!**

 **Bravemaridin: Thank you so much :) I'm glad you enjoyed the previous chapter. I hope you enjoy this one even more, because it's eventful and...kinda sorta answers your question? I wasn't expecting anyone to ask, but I'm glad you did because it has a very interesting answer... ;)**

 **Elisarah: Ethos, Pathos and Logos...yup, composition class! They are all techniques of persuasion in writing or speech. Just like how the realm of Ethos is going to persuade some of our heroes to stay, with the most unorthodox methods imaginable...oops, was that a spoiler?**

 **pokegeek151: Thank you:D! Great encouragement, by the way!**

 **Lina (guest) : Woah, thanks! I'm really glad you like the style and idea. Oh yes, please do! Haha, but then again all I want is for people to enjoy this work, so nevertheless I appreciate you guys telling me in your reviews what you honestly think. Hm...a lot of people seem to be asking for that. Oh well. We shall see. I suppose the main thing is a happy reader. A little bit of twisted A/H in this chapter, though, to satisfy the shippers out there ;)**

 **That doesn't, dearest younger readers, mean mature content. Rest assured, I would have a detailed warning in the Author's Note if it did.**

 **Also, this is my longest Chapter so far. 10,000 plus words EXCLUDING the author's notes! Long read ahead but I know you won't get bored!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl.**

—•:;*"~—

CHAPTER SIX: NIGHTMARE

Julius Root hated the circus.

And this was a statement of fact; circuses were not a likely business idea in subterranean cities, hence not commonly known by the fairy folk, but there _were_ a few inconspicuous groups who took visas to the surface only for the purpose of watching one. Most of the People were sympathetic towards animals and didn't approve of enslaving and teaching them tricks, although very much like Mud Men, there was a seperate bunch who reveled in the fascination of seals being shot out of cannons (Or did that happen only in the movies? Root had no clue) Either way, it was a disgusting and ironically _inhumane_ practice that didn't win his approval.

There was, indeed, a batch of fairies who earned millions out of the People's currency through their secret (and illegal– the LEP was tracking them down) traveling circus that operated Aboveground specifically for fairies during a particular season. Root had been on the case for a while.

But where the Mud Men were concerned, it wasn't even illegal, hence he found himself riding in the back of a ridiculously colourful old van, given a view of the streets through bars, bound and gagged in impossible knots.

They'd exited the desert hours ago and had been traveling this town for the past few minutes, accompanied by his captors' parade of elephants and carriages. Mud people on the streets watched with excitement and children pointed, and Root wondered if they could even notice the fairy tied up in the back of the van. That was until he noticed a few sprites hovering, completely visible, amongst the human crowd. He would've shouted if his mouth hadn't been gagged.

 _Why are those idiots there? Do these humans know the people?_

No. They can't have been discovered. Then again, his captors had known. Koboi!

Root argued with himself that no, this change can't have happened so quickly. Perhaps he was hallucinating. Perhaps these particular humans were too daft to notice hovering green people.

He felt his chains rattle and snapped to face the front of the van. They'd stopped, so they'd arrived. He was about to be part of a bloody circus.

Root realized that the only thing preventing him from shouting was the gag. Once he got that out, he would feel much better.

–•–

Holly picked up a couple more shirts, stuffing them carelessly into the open backpack that lay before her. It was weird that this place only offered odd medieval clothing; perhaps it _was_ Opal's trap and she was trying to have extra fun out of it as saving the world didn't look very heroic in puffy dresses and corsets. The likely trap didn't matter. Artemis had an alternate plan just in case they were mistaken about their _host's_ sincerity.

Her gaze drifted over to the human, who was also in the process of packing stuff, although in stark contrast to her scrunched up shirts, he folded his suits neatly– typical Artemis Fowl. Stuck in a weird foreign world and he still manages to find suits. Much to Holly's eventual (and admitedly cruel) satisfaction, though, he came across only two suits besides the one he was wearing.

"Major," he called. Holly looked up innocently liked she hadn't noticed his plight.

"Yeah?"

"Do any of those drawers–"

"No suits," shrugged the elf, although she was certain she didn't sound very sorry about it. Hey, _she_ wasn't going to be the only one running around in odd costumes. She opened a drawer anyway, and what she subsequently found spread a small, unsympathetic grin across her features.

"But I might have found something compatible with your highness's tastes."

The look on Artemis's face was one of obvious skepticism, but he looked nevertheless, and headed over to the drawers himself.

"Honestly now," he said, before starting to go through the rest of the contents.

"What's wrong with it? It's a suit, isn't it?"

Artemis seemed to be intensely concentrating on shifting through the disorganized bundles in the top drawer, dropping aside the garments he didn't even consider _possibilities_. Knee-socks and knickerbockers. Honestly. It looked like he would have to pack the Hawaiian beach shorts because even _that_ was a better option.

"Earth to Mud Man."

Artemis found a top hat and snorted, though he started to examine the brim with interest. "Yes, Major?"

"It's a suit."

"I am not a character from a comic book," replied Artemis primly. "But this might pique your interest." He held out the hat. "See the year of manufacture."

Holly took the hat, but didn't drop the bright purple suit. "1937?" she asked, raising a questioning eyebrow.

Artemis nodded. "Probably belonging to a fairy, considering humans don't live that long. Our host mentioned that only Opal's side had fairy magic, even though we share the surface– so, your current outfit included, I don't see why fairy-sized clothing would even be here in this town where there are no fairies."

Holly didn't take him seriously and proceeded to try on the hat, spinning on her heel to check herself in the floor-length mirror. "Fetching," she commented, smiling at her reflection.

Artemis cleared his throat. "There's a possibility that some details were left out when our surroundings were explained. But why wouldn't they want us to know that they have fairies on their side?"

"That's for you to figure out," said Holly unconcernedly, dropping the hat into her bag of clothing. "All I care is that we're probably going to face some Freaks Opal manufactured just to kill us, and she probably made sure we weren't immune. So I'm going to have to save your butt when you get mauled by one of them."

Artemis, to his credit, appeared mildly amused. "What makes you think I can't defend myself, Major?"

Holly tapped her chin in thought, a contemplating grin forming on her lips. "Ok, while it's _true_ that you aren't a whimpy stick-figure anymore..."

"Hard to tell if that's an insult or not."

"...but then again you said you needed a bodyguard, so I don't think you're very good at the Art of self-defense," finished Holly smugly. "Look back on your words, Fowl."

Artemis sighed. "You underestimate me, Holly. I should be _somewhat_ better than I once was."

"Really?" asked Holly, a thread of sarcasm in her tone.

"Affirmative."

"OK."

The knee that collided with his gut was so sudden and unexpected that even though it hadn't carried much force, the human almost doubled over at the impact, letting a loud cry of pain escape his throat before he stumbled back into the open drawers.

"And that," said the elf happily. "Is why you need me, Mud Man."

Artemis glared at her, although it didn't look very intimidating when he was clutching the side of his gut and on the floor against the chest of drawers. "To maul me before a Freak tries?"

Holly laughed, but she knelt down to where he had fallen/sat. It felt good being the one who had to kneel, given that she was an elf who usually got the short end of the stick. Pun intended.

"To teach you a thing or two," Holly corrected, wagging a finger. "Does that have to be healed?"

"Conserve your magic," grunted Artemis. "Our journey will need it."

"If fairies live on the surface, Ritual spots can't be that hard to come by, genius." A spark skipped around her fingers. "Show me the bruise."

Artemis felt like arguing on that point, but he was never in the habit of ignoring pain. It was typical of the elf to get carried away so easily. He grudgingly lifted the shirt inside his suit and gave her a view of the bruise.

Holly frowned. "How badly did I kick you?"

"It was pretty bad."

"It really wasn't," rebuked the elf, roughly pushing up the shirt even more. "So I'd like an explaination for _that_ , if you don't mind."

Artemis knew what he was going to see, but looked anyway. A few inches above where Holly had kicked him, a black spark flitted his slight outline of abs, and the bruise had spread across most of his stomach, turning itself a morbid grey colour. Unusual behavior for any mild injury. Not to mention that the spark was _clearly_ magic and not an electric current.

Artemis sighed. "Why are you always suspicious of me, Holly?"

"You've earned it," said Holly. "And I'm not even wrong. What did you do this time?"

"Don't attempt a healing," Artemis sat up straight. He winced. "That'll only start internal bleeding in organs that I'd rather have intact."

Holly crossed her arms, and didn't sound very patient. "There's black magic in you. Explain."

"Holly, I'm afraid we have to get going."

"Not until you spill the beans, Fowl. I want to know exactly what you've been up to the past six years and so help me if you start lying–"

"Let's just say that earlier I was lying about not having encounters with fairies before I regained my memories, and that some fairies have...methods of expressing anger."

Holly nearly rolled her eyes. "Are you saying that some warlock put a curse on you?"

"Yes," said Artemis firmly. "Would you mind helping me up?"

The elf eyed him with a combination of distrust and doubt, before she decided she'd have plenty of time to grill him later and took his outstretched hand. She _helped him up_ with a little more force than was strictly necessary.

"This talk is not over, Artemis," she warned. "And you won't be giving me anything but the truth when I ask for it, or you'll be sorry, and there'll be a lot more to worry about than the Freaks. Are we clear on that?"

"Of course," said Artemis, before picking up the purple suit that lay on her suitcase, folding it neatly in five quick steps, and adding it to his stack of clothes.

.

The temporary town had indeed been built in a thick forest clearing, but the buildings were squat, many, and clustered. They made their way through dusty streets and past deep alleys, with Caleb pointing out random places of interest along the way. Zone, who was a sturdy figure of nearly (but not quite) Butler's height, stayed completely quiet the entire time. Holly wondered if he could even talk.

They had to walk a considerable distance to exit the town, and towards the back entrance the buildings grew taller, as if in preparation for standing against invasion. Mulch had been found in one of these areas.

They came into a cut path that wound across the forest floor. The weather was painfully dry despite the presence of many trees, and Holly noted the cracks along the soil. This area hadn't had rainfall in a while.

Caleb continued on, in the lead, whistling cheerfully and occasionally drawing their attention to less-than-fascinating species of birds, like magpies or crows. The fairies in the crew could appreciate this. You didn't see birds in Haven. But dwarves preferred them as snacks, so Mulch and Holly looked on for entirely different reasons.

The forest took a long hike to clear– one which Artemis clearly didn't enjoy– and they eventually, a little later in the day, emerged on the other side to a cracked, completely barren land.

"We'll have to be a sparing with the water," said Caleb. "Until we reach the next town, which is where we have our first mission."

"First mission?" asked Holly, stuffing her hands in her pockets. The buckled shoes on her feet were already starting to itch.

"We have a few important items to retrieve," explained the boy. "A couple of months ago we sent out a squad to gather what they could about Opal's strategy; one of our fairies managed to mesmerize a top guy and got all the details we needed."

"What are these items?" asked Mulch, a glint in his eye.

"I promised not to arrest you, Mulch, but I don't think these people follow our laws," threatened Holly. Then to Caleb, "You were saying?"

"Right. Well, until recently we thought this was a myth, but since Opal plans on sending people looking for them, there _are_ different keys located in different places that'll lead us to Logos. She obviously doesn't want us acquiring these, _and_ we must find them before her people do, so time is of the essence. Lol. Time is of the essence. I've always wanted to say that."

Artemis frowned. "Then we know her weakness, but she knows our goal. We know that her plans will go awry if we make it into Logos, and she knows exactly what we're after. She could relocate it."

"No, she won't," assured Caleb. "Her city is more secure than anywhere else. Logos is a city that keeps shifting locations, so there isn't even a definite direction we have to head in. As long as we don't acquire _all_ the keys, we will never know where it is and never be able to get in."

"Are we talking about literal keys?"

"No," admitted Caleb. "It just sounds cool when you say it like that. They're actually some ancient fairy tech with magic. Logos used to belong to the People, and they lost it a long time ago. Before our races started living in peace. Legend has it that they made these things so they'll know where Logos is when they're ready to invade and reclaim it."

Artemis raised an eyebrow. "Why does this all sound very fantastical to me?"

Holly clapped him on the back a little harder than was necessary. "Is that complaining I hear, Fowl?"

The genius winced. "It's doubt."

"You'd better believe it," said Holly simply, cantering a few steps ahead. "Come on, the rest of you. Let's go find ourselves that first key."

And with that she happily walked off, almost too happily for someone on a life-threatening mission, and Artemis found himself wondering just how boring her desk job was.

It was only when the sun started to set, a dazzling globe of bright, brilliant orange before retreating into the clouds, that their trek through the merciless desert was given a break. Zone, who'd taken the rear, finally gave the call to halt and camp up, laying down the three stuffed backpacks he'd effortlessly carried the whole time.

They set up three tents, a process in which a certain young genius was of practically no use, and Zone went about preparing a dinner out of their rations. It would take about two days of walking to get to their first destination on account of the fact that Caleb's town has distanced itself as much as possible from normal civilization, in an area far away from potential Logos pop-up spots. Nothing could be stated safely, still.

It was a dinner that Mulch found thoroughly unsatisfactory, which caused him to retreat into one of the tents in a slouch and the promise that he would find a few _snacks_ caught up in his beard. Nobody asked any questions.

Holly watched him disappear into the tent, and raised a superficial question. "Who's going to share with him?"

Artemis gave her a disapproving look. "You don't have to direct the question at _me_."

"You're the genius. Figure something out."

Caleb and Zone both looked at him.

Artemis sighed. "The dwarf can have a tent for himself. The rest of us can share."

"Can Zone _really_ share one of these tents?" asked Caleb. "Err, no offense, man."

"None taken," rumbled the bodyguard, in what was the second time he had spoken the whole day.

There was a long moment of silence undisturbed even by the stillness of the night.

"Alright," sighed the Prince of Weird. "Rock-paper-scissors?"

"Seriously?" asked Artemis.

"Do you know how to play?"

"Of course I do," said the genius, although he really wasn't as offended as he sounded.

"On three," announced Caleb. "One...two..."

Artemis threw paper, Holly threw scissors, and Caleb threw paper.

"Shucks," muttered the boy. "Okay, another round, Artemis."

Holly smirked.

Holly's smirk soon died down because Artemis threw rock and Caleb threw scissors, and it soon clicked to her that if Caleb was sharing with Mulch, then Artemis would be...

"Oh no," said Caleb disbelievingly. "Noooo!"

Artemis shrugged. "Seeing as we based the decision entirely on dumb luck but it was your suggestion in the first place, I think it's fair to say that you've lost."

"Fine," grumbled the boy. "Hey, I don't think Mulch is so bad anyway. I mean, that sunscreen stinks, but he's hilarious and you know, I bet we're going to be best friends."

"Positivity. I like that."

"Just a second, Fowl," said Holly, raising a finger. "Did it occur to you that..."

"Don't worry about that, Major," said Artemis dismissively. "The tent is big enough for us to have our own portions. And I didn't lose the game, so I don't deserve suffering Mulch's sulphurous skin creams."

Holly sighed, deciding against asking any more questions. He was right. It wouldn't be so bad. Not in comparison to sharing a small space with a dwarf.

A few minutes later, Holly found herself sadly mistaken.

For one thing, she had been ready to fall into a peaceful sleep before the accursed Mud Man had turned up at ten o'clock, flicked on a bright, huge torch that lit up the whole tent, and as if that wasn't bad enough, started removing his suit jacket.

"If you're going to take your cool time getting into your PJs, Fowl," she muttered, turning onto her side to scowl at him. "Haven help me I _will_ knock the daylights out of you."

"I'm not inclined to sleep in a suit, Major," replied Artemis calmly, starting to unbutton his shirt. "And I would appreciate if you turned the other way."

Holly felt her cheeks flush, thus immediately complied. This didn't prevent a witty retort though. "Dream on, Mud Boy."

"And I'm a child again," said Artemis, sounding mock-disappointed. He carefully put the discarded clothes away before sitting in his sleeping bag and stifling a yawn. "Some would say I am quite the specimen in human standards."

"Show off," muttered Holly, fighting the urge to turn back his way. It was practical to be able to look at the person you were talking to. Not that she _wanted_ to look. Why would she? It wasn't as if he was actually that attractive, although a part of her knew that she was seriously lying to herself.

Holly almost shot to her feet at this last thought.

 _What the heck?!_

"Do you still have doubts about our otherworldly friends?"

Holly groaned, just wishing he would turn the light off and let her sleep. She knew it would be no use asking, so she didn't ask. "Honestly? Caleb can't be part of Opal's plans. He's just a child and everything. Not even a mad juvenile genius like you were."

"I'm touched," said Artemis sarcastically. "Although I _do_ remember explaining to you before why I would qualify as a prodigy rather than mad if my first grand scheme went well."

Holly rolled her eyes. "Great, you remember."

"I did say I had all my memories back," pointed Artemis. "But I was wondering...if Opal hasn't already revealed herself to Haven, it would look like _I'm_ the reason behind your disappearance. It wouldn't bolster my credibility much."

"I think it doesn't get any better than Public Enemy Number One," said the elf. "Don't worry. Foaly will figure it out eventually."

"If by _eventually_ you mean when the Freaks descend upon Haven City and Opal Koboi turns queen of fairykind then yes, I'm completely reassured."

Holly forgot her previous restrictive thoughts and turned on her side to face him. There was a good two meters between them anyway, so she did indeed have her space. "You're a bucket full of sunshine, Mud Boy. Now if you wouldn't mind telling me why there's black magic pulsing through your system, that'd be great."

Artemis sighed, running pianist fingers through his hair. The elf ignored the fact that he was without a shirt again, and was _grateful_ of the sleeping bag that enveloped the rest of his bod _y._

"Are we going to keep returning to this?" he asked exasperatedly.

"Until you give me the complete truth, yes."

"Then we'll have to keep returning to it."

Holly scowled. "Stop being dodgy, Fowl. I don't even fully trust you because you're hiding something. I need to know how, when and why you were messing around with fairy magic before I found you."

"How, when and why," repeated Artemis. "Where do I start?"

"You're stalling so you can think of a lie."

"Please, Major, I'm not nearly as obvious. You wouldn't be able to tell if I was actually thinking of a lie."

"Still stalling."

"Alright," said Artemis, rolling his eyes. "How would you like it? Fairytale format?"

"Huh?"

"Once upon a time, there was this teenage criminal mastermind who discovered mirrored lenses in his eyes. He was naturally curious, so he visited the local witchdoctor–"

" _Fowl,_ " cut in Holly threateningly.

"Visited the surgeon whose signature the lenses bore. We had apparently ordered it ourselves. I knew it can't have been a lie– my email was unhackable– and there was also the fact that Butler had called the man himself. One story led to another and I was inclined to believe in memory-loss. _Purposeful_ memory loss, because Butler and Juliet had undergone the same thing. One of the possibilities I stumbled on was the fairy _Mesmer_ which, upon further research, required exact eye contact."

Holly crossed her arms. "We're getting somewhere. Go on."

"I paid a visit. It was a rogue fairy living as a tramp in New York, and a warlock at that. He hadn't broken any rules to lose his magic; he simply had a great vision of a world where humans and fairies lived together, and just wasn't very bright, so I got a few details. What the fairy kind was, the different families, the magic they harnessed..."

"Something went wrong," guessed Holly correctly.

"Exactly. The warlock glimpsed Butler and recognized me, fairy Public Enemy Number One, and suddenly grew unwilling to give me more details. This raised an eyebrow on my part, because I didn't know this, and I ordered Butler to intercept him."

" _Threaten._ "

"Interrogate," insisted Artemis. "He was an invaluable source of information. He did, however, _see_ it as a threat, and used a few sparks of very powerful magic in an attempt to save himself. It had no effect on Butler. But on me–" Artemis held out a hand, and black sparks crackled at his fingertips. "I haven't fully understood yet what it can do."

"Artemis Fowl with magic," snorted Holly. " _Illegal_ magic, naturally. _Black magic_. This is just what the world needs."

"I'm not a threat."

"And Mulch Diggums smells nice."

"Holly, now that I know all that the People have done for me, I wouldn't even try–" And he paused, frozen stiff.

Holly frowned. "Artemis?"

Artemis lifted a finger to his lips.

The elf sat up, throwing the sheet off herself. She was in her one piece again. Not the attire she preferred in a dangerous situation. "What's going on?" she hissed.

Artemis grabbed her arm. _Stay still,_ he mouthed, tightening his grip so she got the point.

Holly wanted to ask, but the look on his face told her this was _serious_.

Wordlessly, still holding onto her, Artemis reached his other arm out to the bright torch and carefully shifted it onto his pillow, before tucking its bright end inside the cover of his sleeping bag.

The room instantly dimmed, but there was a little bit of light that escaped through the thick fabric.

"Listen," whispered Artemis. "Or rather, don't. Block it out."

Holly was confused for the moments before she heard it, and her nerves immediately stood on edge. It was...whistling. Low, melancholy whistling that broke the stillness of the night air, and it seemed to come at them from all sides. At first a single note repeated, but then it increased to three different notes of different pitches, and the quiet noise grew louder. There was something about it that made her gut churn and her limbs feel weak. She wanted to just sit there and listen.

Artemis pulled her closer into him, and she didn't even question it. She just wrapped an arm around his waist and felt herself slipping, slipping out of consciousness...

"Pathos," said Artemis with a clear voice, which made her suddenly snap back to her senses and break free from him.

"D-D'Arvit," muttered Holly, a hand on her head. "That sound..."

"The _Mesmer_ we were told about," said Artemis, getting to his feet. Still a little afflicted by her previous daze, Holly tried to ignore the red boxers. "We need to alert Zone on this. Caleb said he can fight them."

"Them?" echoed Holly. He was already slipping on a pair of trousers.

"There might be more than one," said Artemis, hurriedly pulling his shirt over his head. He spent a futile second trying to even out a few creases before he seemed to realize that it really wasn't the time and proceeded to duck and crawl out of the tent with an extreme sense of urgency.

Holly groggily reached for a pair of shorts and got them on before following, soon emerging into the cold night air inadequately equipped for a fight.

-••

"He's already surveying the perimeter," said Caleb, and even the immune boy had a worried look in his eyes. "But I don't think we'll be able to avoid it. They're quite good at sniffing people out, and I'm sure they've been set on our trail anyway."

"Great," muttered Holly, a hand resting on the hip that usually carried her trusty Neutrino. "Do we know how to get rid of one?"

Caleb bit his lip. "A Freak can't be killed easily. Not unless you drop a grenade on one. Besides, we don't even know if you're immune..."

"Should've had the concoction," snorted Mulch, elbowing Artemis in the ribs.

Artemis was about to retort, but at that moment Zone came jogging up to them from a distance away. "It's gone quiet," he announced. "I set off a green light but there was no response."

"Green light?" asked Artemis.

"They're attracted to bright green lighting." He turned to Caleb. "The danger is past. The Freak you heard must've gone by us."

"I wasn't imagining it," protested the boy. "They heard it too!"

"I didn't say you were imagining it, Master Caleb," said Zone in his usual quiet voice. "It's just gone past. But I'll stay guard anyway, just in case."

Caleb nodded. "Thanks man. Immunity only prevents you from entering Ethos. Those things can still hypnotize you. Sure you can handle it?"

The bodyguard only nodded.

Mulch yawned. "How late is it?"

"Ten thirty," replied Caleb. "Come on, best friend, let's get some sleep."

Holly couldn't help but chuckle as she watched the boy reluctantly follow the dwarf into their shared tent.

"It's unfair to suspect that kid of anything, Artemis," she said, making sure only he heard.

"Perhaps," murmured Artemis, gaze fixed on the dark horizon. "But that isn't the current issue. I don't think sleep will come easy tonight."

The elf stifled a yawn. "Whatever," she mumbled, crouching into their own tent. "Goodnight, Mud Boy."

.

 _LEPAcademy was usually a very loud place; half of it had to do with a lack of discipline, the other half had to do with the shots fired and various grunts of cadets training in the grounds. She'd been having a bad headache already, so it did nothing to lighten her mood._

 _Holly Short sat alone on one of the rusty benches near the fence-gate, her eyes wandering everywhere but the Academy behind her. She'd graduated two weeks ago but, upon the insistence of certain let's say, arrogant, worthy-of-a-blackened-eye male instructors, she had to_ assure _them that they hadn't made the wrong decision, so she was still here and with no known people from her batch. It was, after all, a historic and first-time thing that a_ female _had graduated the Academy. Would be a shame if it had turned out to be an accident, wouldn't it?_

 _So she watched the streets outside, alone._

 _Holly was soon enough in luck and a grin spread on her face. Her father's minivan finally pulled up beside the gate._

 _She grabbed her pack and, swinging over the fence in a swift move, landed on the pavement outside. She walked over to the vehicle and slid open the door to the passenger seat. Soon settled in, they were heading along the main roads of Haven._

 _The roads looked dark...darker than usual. It was as if the glo-strips of the city had been reduced to minimum power, but it was also as if some terrible catastrophe, some unprecedented disaster, was about to descend upon the shivering streets. Holly cast an uneasy glance around. The stalactites that made the roof of the city seemed twisted in shape. Like something had sucked the energy out of them, leaving the anyway inanimate feature even more dead._

 _Something was wrong. Something was terribly, terribly wrong, and she somehow knew the right question to ask._

 _"Where's Mum?"_

 _Her father smiled slightly, but it was devoid of any happiness. It was more a nervous smile, a worried one of a person with pent-up anxieties._

 _Holly's eyes widened. "Dad? Where's Mum?"_

 _He couldn't bring his eyes to meet hers, so he simply stared at the speeding road ahead, the ghostly road, the road to what would be Holly's worst nightmare._

 _"She...was on duty," he started, barely managing not to stutter. "There was an accident. She's in hospital, Poppy."_

 _Holly felt her jaw drop. Accident? Hospital? Her mother's line of work came with a lot of risks, and most of said risks were often...fatal._

 _"Is she...okay?" asked Holly, her voice a strangled rasp._

 _"She's a strong one," said her father. "She'll make it. I know she will."_

 _Holly didn't respond. She couldn't._

 _"We're going to see her," added her father, just as they whizzed past the lane to their house. "She's going to be fine."_

 _She's going to be fine._

 _That's what Holly kept telling herself throughout the drive, that seemed to stretch on for eternities, and up till the last moment where she entered the emergency ward and saw the worst she'd feared to see._

 _Which made it hard to tell herself that. That her mother was going to be fine._

 _._

 _Holly cried for the first time in her young years at her mother's bedside, eyes pressed tightly against a pale, poisoned hand._

 _"I'm sorry," she sobbed, not bothering to hide the tears, not bothering to mask her breaking voice. "I'm sorry it has to be slow. I'm sorry you have to suffer this."_

 _"I'm not," said Coral Short with surprising vigor._

 _Holly shakily met her eyes, a mirror of her own._

 _"Why?" she whispered._

 _"Because if I'd died at once," her mother's eyes twinkled. "I wouldn't be able to see you now."_

 _Holly managed a weak smile. "But I don't want you to go through this."_

 _"It's OK," said Coral, squeezing her daughter's hand with the little energy she had left. "I don't mind. I want to see your pretty face."_

 _Holly felt her mother's white knuckles, hard, a sign of her body's losing fight against the poisoning._

 _"I love you," she said suddenly. "I love you, Mum."_

 _"I know, sweetheart. Do you know how much I love you too?"_

 _"You don't know," said Holly miserably. "I've never told you before. I've never shown it. I'm a horrible daughter."_

 _Coral frowned. "Don't insult my daughter," she pulled her into a weak hug, the most her now stick-thin arms could bear. "My daughter is going to be the first female in LEPrecon. My daughter is an ace pilot. And she's made me proud."_

 _"I love you," whispered Holly again, returning the embrace, but gently, carefully, as if a little more force would worsen the dying fairy's condition._

 _"Holly," murmured Coral, running frail fingers through her daughter's short hair. "Be strong."_

 _Be strong._

 _Because there was no hope left for Coral Short._

 _Because, soon enough, Holly would be alone. Again. And this time that loneliness would last._

.

Holly's eyes shot awake to a gentle tapping on her shoulder. Her vision was still a blur, a haze of disappearing dreams, but she remembered too well.

 _Mother_.

Holly wanted to scream, and then just bury her face in the sheets and cry. She had no idea what had triggered the nightmare, or rather the memory; she couldn't care less. She was feeling cold and a million shivers ran down her spine.

More tapping on her shoulder, a little closer to her ear this time. Her soldier's senses didn't kick in as they usually would have; she was feeling weak, tired and...alone. Truly alone.

But her hand unconsciously reached for her shoulder, expecting to find another pale, cold, but human hand. What she found instead was a walnut-sized beetle that scurried off down along her arm the moment she touched it.

Holly shivered.

 _Alone._

No Coral. No Julius. No Foaly. And not even Artemis, now.

That was when her senses did kick in, and she sat bolt upright in her sleeping bag and frantic eyes scanned the small space of the tent.

 _You can't be missing._

Her thudding heartbeat soon found reason to calm down, though. There he was, head against his pillow, chin directed at the thick cloth roof. His chest rose and fell, slowly, and his breathing was quiet but it was there.

Holly sighed. At least the infuriating human hadn't managed to get himself kidnapped while she was asleep.

Holly watched him closely. Was he having the same kind of nightmare? About losing someone? As far as she knew, there were only a few souls on the planet Artemis Fowl considered his loved ones. And even that was perhaps after _thinking about it_ carefully, preparing an exact list. She found it hard to imagine what the last six years would have been like for him if he hadn't made any friends and had lost his memories about the few he already had. Alone. With Butler and his parents at his side, but otherwise alone.

"Find something interesting, Major?" asked a quiet, playful voice. "I know. I've been told how my eyes glow in the dark."

Holly nearly jumped. _Stupid._ Had she been paying actual attention throughout her staring she _would_ have realized that the damn Mud Man was awake.

"Which I find unsettling," retorted Holly stubbornly. "Why aren't you asleep?"

"The mind is awake," replied Artemis, turning on his side to face her. "And you? Bad dream?"

Holly scowled. "Not your concern."

"So it _was_ a bad dream. Interesting. It's quite possibly not for the reason you think, though."

The elf muttered a Gnommish curse and wrapped her sheet around her shoulders, hoping it would thaw the cold. "Are you going to start interpreting dreams now?"

Artemis chuckled dryly. "I would love to try, but we have bigger concerns at the moment. Something Caleb told me about...signs. Of admittance into Ethos."

Holly felt her eyes go wide. Somehow, she knew exactly what that meant.

"But we didn't...we didn't come across a..."

"But we heard one. Remember what our gracious host mentioned? You don't have to fight it. It can have an effect on you with its long-distance _Mesmer_."

Holly shook her head. "No. It can't be...this early? If I'm going to get sucked into Ethos soon, and I'm not immune..."

"Relax, Holly. We'll find a way," Artemis didn't seem as worried as he should have been. Maybe that was a good thing. Or maybe he just didn't care, it was difficult to tell.

"Easy for you to say," muttered Holly, averting her eyes. "You aren't the one getting nightmares from this Ethos place. You aren't the one who's going to get sucked into some weird hell and...and...ugh, just let me sleep."

Artemis didn't respond for a moment, but then he said, with the hint of a smirk in his voice, "Would you like some help falling asleep, Major?"

Holly's head was spinning too fast to catch his tone. "Huh?"

"Would you, perhaps, like to cuddle?"

The elf immediately snapped at him. "Don't get chummy on me, Fowl."

"It wasn't a real offer," said Artemis, shrugging, although she could swear there was still a grin on his face. "I don't do _cuddles._ Still, your loss."

"You know," Holly scowled. "First thing tomorrow morning, I'm going to give you a nice, hard whack in the chin."

"Pleasant dreams, Major."

"Pleasant dreams indeed," muttered the elf, rolling over to the other side, letting sleep consume her again.

••

 **Haven City.**

Foaly found himself gladly back on his feet after an overnight stay in the hospital ward, but the bad part was that he had to walk to Police Plaza. His van was, after all, a wreck, and its remains were still smoldering on the corner of the street.

He clopped over to the door of his Ops Booth, and he never noticed Vinyayà's presence until the double doors had already whizzed open.

"Oh! Er, good morning, Wing Commander."

"Are you well?" asked the elf, sounding more businesslike than concerned.

"I'm alright. Ready to present my case," he held up a disc that contained Opal's voice clip. Old-school, yeah, but the Council weren't exactly fancy either.

"You're the only victim who's woken up," stated Vinyayà, walking past him into the Ops Booth. "And the Council has already conjured up a theory of their own."

Foaly frowned, his cheery expression dropping. "How's that even possible?"

"Major Short hasn't reported back."

"Yes, and it's probably Opal–"

"They found out about the Artemis Fowl mission. They believe Fowl is in league with Koboi."

Foaly blinked. "Ok. Wow. Talk about jumping to conclusions. Firstly, I think it's more plausible that Holly and Artemis are _both_ Koboi's targets because they foiled her plan last time, and–"

"You can tell the Council yourself," interrupted Vinyayà, heading towards the exit. "Meeting in ten minutes. I hope you're ready."

.

The Councilmembers gathered around the table in the situations room happened to be _all_ of them this time; which meant several opinions were being voiced at once, several theories shouted at the same time, and Foaly with a very big headache.

"We should have been told about the Artemis Fowl mission," Cahartez slammed a fist on the table. "You know I normally support you, Foaly, but withholding such crucial details have now brought disaster on us all!"

"Chairman," started Foaly, but he was interrupted.

"Koboi is back and we don't have Commander Root!" shouted another Councilman from across the table. "Who, by the way, we only lost because of investigating Holly Short's disappearance. Which came from your unauthorized mission. Explain again how none of this is your fault!"

"You withheld important information from the Council," agreed Rodent, leaning back in his swivel chair for a slight side-to-side spin. "We have reason to suspect you of treachery, centaur."

Foaly was more than prepared to snap, " _That's all you CAN do!_ ", but we didn't get todo it anyway. It was at that moment that something, he didn't know what, but _something_ a few meters away from the building, exploded.

The sound was loud and blasted its way though their eardrums, the shock not even sparing the ones with quick reflexes who'd clambered beneath the table either. For a moment the ground shook and Foaly was reminded disturbingly about the attack he'd faced just the day before.

 _D'Arvit_ , his wide gaze found the window, through which the panic of various citizens from outside was transparent. Fairies ran off in unorganized directions, some keen on escaping the flames, some keen on starting their vehicles and getting the hell out of the danger zone, because explosion _certainly_ hadn't happened on its own.

Foaly felt Vinyayà pull him down by a hoof mere seconds before another explosion that seemed to rock Police Plaza on its foundations. He could hear the Councilmen screaming things and watch some of them rush over to the exits, but hear and watch was all Foaly could do. Another one of Koboi's monsters. That had to be it. He was probably still a target.

As if reading his mind, Vinyayà pulled out her communicator and shouted at the person on the other end.

"What's behind the attack?"

She listened for a moment and frowned before cutting the line.

"It's not one of those things, Foaly," she said, sounding oddly calm. "Just another dumb troll. I'll assemble a team to take care of it."

Foaly shook his head. "Think, Wing Commander. It's the second rampant troll we've had in a while. I don't think it's a coincidence."

Vinyayà was already leaving for the exit, again, so Foaly decided it wasn't worth talking to himself and followed her with unmasked nervousness.

 _It's Koboi again. I know it's all Koboi._

••

It had indeed been pleasant dreams for Holly. No more nightmares, no more Ethos. Just waking up knowing today was the day she'd get to have her revenge. For both the snide remarks _and_ the theft of her shirt. And the black-magic thing. Oh, revenge was such a sweet feeling.

Holly crawled out of the tent to a mildly warm desert, because the sun hadn't had the time to heat up the sand dunes again. It was the nice kind of warm, like English summer. Didn't hurt her magic either.

Mulch was the first to greet her. He had in his mouth something that looked suspiciously like the hind limb of a rather large predator. Holly decided on not asking, and just greeted him back with a wave.

Caleb seemed to be pointing out places in a map to Artemis, who listened and inquired with unreserved interest. Holly only grinned more at the sight of the Mud Man. He had gone through a rough night for sure. There were faint dark circles under his eyes and he had around him the air of an insomniac.

Zone, on the other hand, who'd stayed guard all night, didn't look sleep-deprived at all. Then again it was hard to imagine someone of his level of fitness looking tired. He quietly ate his own meal, seated on one of the mats they had laid out on the sand.

Artemis looked up from the map when he heard her approach.

"Goodmorning, Major. I trust you're ready for today's adventure?"

Holly sat down beside him with what would've looked like a friendly smirk to the others, but what the two of them knew meant _Once we get a moment alone, I hit you real hard_.

Mulch rolled his eyes. "You two seemed to have got acquainted well overnight."

Holly shot him a dangerous look, and he said no more on the subject.

"Phase One of the plan, then," said Artemis casually, spreading out Caleb's map before them. "From here we head thirty kilometers East and arrive at the town of Gilemo. This is where we'll search for the first Logos key. It shouldn't be very hard because..."

"Because the first key is actually a huge statue made of pure gold," said Caleb with a grin. "But it's shrinkable. If a fairy sends a couple of sparks through its circuit system, that should be enough to shrink it to a size we can carry. Magic and technology. Isn't it cool?"

"I'm more interested in the gold," said Mulch. "So all that gold is going to shrink?"

"Sadly," answered Artemis. "But we'll find more precious items for sure."

The dwarf grinned a wide grin. "Really?"

"Really. But first we must reach Gilemo, and if the Freaks are indeed _sniffing us out_ , it's much easier said than done. We'll have to be on our guard at all times. It won't do to be completely deaf throughout, so we're going to put on a set of headphones each the moment we hear their Mesmer." On cue, Caleb tossed a set each to Holly and Mulch.

"And that's it," announced Artemis. "You'll hear the rest of the plan once we've reached. Questions?"

Holly raised a hand. "If this gold statue has been standing there all this time..."

"We only recently got to know it's a key," said Caleb. "And we're the only one who know, apart from probably Opal. To the people of the town, it's just some old historic monument."

"I'm sure they'd notice if a statue of solid gold just disappeared from the middle of the city square."

"They will," assured Artemis. "Then it's up to us to escape. Naturally."

"Ooh, fun," said Holly, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Your great plan ends with bolting like rabbits. I am so confident."

"Do you have another plan? About the _precious items_?" asked Mulch hungrily.

"No, not yet," Artemis smirked, knowing full well that his elfin counterpart was fuming. "But I promise I'll set you on it."

Forty-five minutes later, Holly finally got her revenge. Let us not reflect on violence.

•

The trek through the heat of the desert was becoming unbearable. It had been torturous in the first place, but now it was just too much. Especially to a dwarf who needed a sea of the best sunscreen to ensure he didn't fry like a barbecued piece of bacon.

"Mulch," called Holly irritably, stopping in her tracks to look back at the dwarf. He was barely even walking, spilling blotches of the cream all over himself, and this included a dwarf rear end that had turned a lovely shade of crimson. Thanks to her keeping pace with him, Artemis, Caleb and Zone were already several meters ahead, proceeding painstakingly against the sweltering rays of the sun. Holly and Mulch, being fairies, were accustomed to neither intense heat or cold, so had soon found themselves lagging behind anyway; Holly felt her magic reserves evaporate into nothing. Mulch, on the other hand, looked like he might pass out at any moment.

"We'll have to suffer less of this if you hurry up," she called, turning to look at the other three instead. She could imagine the colourful curse words Mud Man was probably keeping to himself right now. He wasn't one for walking, obviously, and he probably wasn't one for the heat either.

"Coming," breathed Mulch, who was practically crawling forward by now. "Er...say, can I ride in your pack?"

Holly raised an eyebrow. "No, that's going to slow me down and drain me out even faster."

"Please," rasped the dwarf, catching up to her.

Holly sighed. "Maybe you could ask Zone. He doesn't even look tired."

Mulch squinted. "He's far away."

"Get a move on, dwarf."

Mulch slowly clambered to his short feet and started walking alongside her.

"So," started Holly. "Maybe you could start some pointless conversation. Get your mind off this heat."

Mulch snorted. "I believe, Holly dearest, that that method only works in dreams. Nothing can beat this heat. _Nothing._ It's worse than the D'Arvitting Sahara, all the magma chutes under the surface and the bloody sun combined. Look at me. I'm never going to recover my handsome visage again. The world has just lost a big part of its charm."

Despite everything, Holly managed a grin. There, it had worked. Hopefully his babbling would continue and neither of them would feel the time pass.

"I mean _look_ at what this adventure has done to my face, Holly! I don't even know why I'm helping. I deserve a medal. And a gold statue erected in my honour. And possibly some precious gems on my tombstone that reads _Here lies Mulch Diggumms– a hero, a friend, lost because of heroically enduring the unbearable heat during an adventure to save the world._ And, in my honour, you can start developing sunscreen companies to do their D'Arvitting _best_ to protect the skins of dwarves in the future."

Holly nodded weakly. This ranting was actually helping her stay alert.

"My face," moaned Mulch, dabbing a palmful of the lotion around his cheeks. Perhaps she imagined it, but the white cream sizzled the moment into made contact with his parched skin. Holly winced. That probably hurt a lot.

Her gaze, once again, drifted to where Artemis desperately tried to keep up with Caleb and Zone. Mulch would probably regain his _good looks_ in a matter of weeks of stuffing his face, but she couldn't help but wonder about a certain _other_...erhm, handsome visage. Because it would truly be a loss if that one was spoilt. She liked that pale skin and blue eyes just as they were.

And it struck her like lightening exactly _what_ she had just thought.

 _D'Arvit. D'Arvit. The third time! This is the third time those accursed thoughts have crossed your mind!_

Holly physically picked up her pace and felt a tad glad that the sun had already made her face red.

 _It's fine. Ignore it. The heat is playing tricks on you. Obviously._

"Holly," snapped Mulch. "I'm trying to talk to you!"

"Sorry," muttered the elf, resisting the urge to slap herself.

Mulch squinted. "What's up with you and Mud Boy, anyway?"

Holly turned to scowl at him. "Excuse me?"

Mulch was too much in suffering to feel threatened. "It's OK, it isn't _that_ obvious, but I'm smart enough to notice it."

"Notice _what_?"

"The looks you keep giving him. It's like you have some sort of crush on him."

Which was the worst thing he could've said at the moment _and_ given Holly's current mood, as he soon found out when a hard boot collided at top force with his already injured rear.

"OW!"

"Another comment, Diggumms," hissed Holly. "And this desert you hate so much is going to be your final resting place. Are we clear?"

Mulch rubbed his injured spot. "Gee, _sorry_."

Holly was about to produce a caustic retort when an all too familiar ring sounded in her ears, echoing around the walls of her pointed tips and thickening the suffering feel of the endless desert.

"W-What was that?" stammered Mulch, his eyes suddenly wide with alarm.

"Pathos," growled Holly, shaking herslef. "Headphones on."

They waited for what felt like a forever, the world around them devoid of any sound, the calm before the storm, and that was when Zone left the group in front and came running up to them with impressive speed.

"Go," he said quietly, motioning to where Caleb and Artemis stood.

The dwarf and the elf both didn't ask any questions and took off. Holly knew she couldn't even help the guy in her current state. The least she could do was not get in the way.

They reached the other two faster than they thought they could have, and looked back in Zone's direction, panting, pensive.

Caleb said something, but nobody heard him through the headphones. It was probably a good thing.

They waited, breathed, and waited more.

Then a sudden ring like the gong of a temple bell penetrated the headphones and echoed in their heads, and this happened a few seconds before Zone's bulk was effortlessly tossed across to them by some invisible force.

Caleb was immediately at the man's side, but he was quick to shoot awake and get to his feet.

"Get away from here," he grunted. They couldn't hear him, but his meaning was quite apparent.

Holly didn't want to run, but that's what everyone did, Zone included. Clearly the threat was too great to face. So, actually being a little considerate, she grabbed both Artemis and Mulch and propelled them forward, dashing off behind them as fast as her legs could carry.

But the sweat and the blisters seemed to go away with the dash she took, and she felt the unbearable heat of the desert fast fade away, melting into something that was more akin to a pleasant Spring morning, a nice breeze, a little bit of cold.

And suddenly she was alone, and it was no longer a desert.

Holly took cautious steps whilst staring at her new surroundings, expression disbelieving. She was inside some sort of manicured garden maze, and the walls of bushes and shrubbery seemed to reach out to the sky. There were several paths ahead, several twists and turns. Holly walked the wet earth to one such junction, and simply continued to gape.

This was impossible. Where had the blasted heat gone? Where was the desert?

Several paths bordered by the same sky-high walls of greenery spread out before her, each one looking endless.

 _Is this another nightmare?_

No, it really can't have been. She had found herself in a beautiful place. A little confusing, granted, but the leaves, the moss, the _nature_ was simply breath-taking. She didn't feel her worries slip away, but it just happened, and she took one of the several paths.

Holly continued to look at the garden walls as she walked, and a delightful spring mist had settled on the maze. A small part of her feared she'd never find her way out of it. But most of her just didn't mind that it could go on forever. This was better than the desert. This was a little cold, and nice. She briefly wondered what Mulch thought of this place. He was probably digging into the delicious earth for a snack or two by now.

Holly laughed. She heard herself. It was such an independent, carefree laugh that she actually wondered where it had come from. It certainly couldn't be from the LEP Major who had stacks of paperwork and stressful missions to save the world...could it?

Holly noticed something else. Her boots were gone, and her feet were bare, and the wet mud felt good and welcoming. Also the fact that she no longer wore the dress pants and sky blue shirt from this morning, but she was in what appeared to be a knee-length white dress.

At this realization Holly faltered. Dress? She had only worn a dress on one or two occasions before in her life. She couldn't remember even packing one for the journey.

Wordlessly she kept walking, and the mud healed her burnt toes in a subtle process that felt better than any magic.

Her focus was torn away from this when the maze ended in a clearing of garden which felt incredible for her ached eyes to look at.

She stepped into the clearing and felt grass under her feet. Real grass. The kind you never got in Haven City. And there were real birds on the walls, there was chirping, there were clusters of flowers of the most bizarre colours and then there was...

 _Artemis_.

There he was, a few yards across from her, in one of his customary Zegna bespokes, sitting a little formally on a long white bench. He hadn't noticed her appearance yet. He was busy observing one of the many wonderful things about their new environment, though Holly couldn't tell which. She frankly didn't care.

"Major Short," greeted Artemis, suddenly turning to look at her. "You can come and sit down if you want."

Holly walked forward to join him on the bench.

"What do you make of this?" asked Artemis.

"I don't know," she replied, somehow feeling like she had no control over her words. "It's better than the desert for sure."

"Indeed," Artemis smiled. "By the way, can I just tell you that you look lovely?"

" _What?_ "

"This attire is new. It rather suits you, Major."

Holly tried and failed to hold back a blush, a Fronddamn _blush_ , which he noticed way too easily.

The genius chuckled.

Holly snapped to scowl at him. "What're you laughing at, Mud Whelp?"

This only served to prolong his laughter and although she found it was a _beautiful_ sound, she did not in the least bit appreciate it. "Stop."

"Alright, alright," said Artemis weakly, raising his palms in surrender. "I'll stop laughing. Just so you know, I'm not the only...shall we say, _loved one_ around this area right now." He smirked.

Holly was too intent on picking this up to notice his teasing. "What? Who else?"

Artemis pointed a finger. "Look for yourself. Ethos isn't so bad after all."

Holly was already heading off in the direction when she heard him.

" _Ethos?_ We're in Ethos?"

Artemis winked. "Semantics."

She paid no more attention to him and continued along one of the paths in the garden, a winding flagstone path under her bare feet, and found, beside a spotless white fountain, one person she had known could never come into her life again.

" _Mum."_

Coral Short turned to look at her, a pleasant smile on her gorgeous face that Holly had missed so, so much.

"Hello, dear."

She couldn't reply. She stayed rooted to the spot, simply staring agape. How was this possible? Just last night she had relived the memory of her mother's slow death, and now...here...

Wordlessly, Holly found herself moving forward.

.

"How much longer till she wakes up?" grunted Mulch, giving Holly's unconcious figure an unappreciative look. "Seriously, I'm about to collapse. _I_ need to be carried."

Zone, who carefully carried the small elf in his massive hands, gave the dwarf an amused smile but didn't say anything. He had a knack for avoiding conversations.

"Could it be possible," Artemis was asking. "That Holly isn't immune? Or that she's in Ethos right now?"

Caleb shook his head. "I've seen people who're trapped in Ethos. They don't look so peaceful unconcious. They don't breathe that easily either. She's probably in another nightmare brought on by that place."

"Probably," said Artemis, glancing at the elf. She did indeed look peaceful. It was hard to believe she had actually been the first one to get struck when the Freak attacked; he knew her to be the one responsible to saving everyone else's hides on usual occasions. Then again the sun had drained her magic and she'd been extremely weak, already slipping out of conciousness by the time the Freak physically turned up.

"How close to this town are we, anyway?" grumbled Mulch. "If I have to walk any longer, I swear..."

"It's nighttime, Mulch. There hasn't been any sunlight for the past three hours if you haven't noticed."

Mulch simply lifted his bumflap and gave the Mud Man a nice view of it in reply. An insult it may have been, but it _did_ prove a point; his dwarf skin still had blisters and he was still suffering.

"We're quite close," said Caleb, hiding a grin at this display. "A little further up this dune and..."

"Gilemo," said Artemis triumphtantly, upon the timely emergence of a cluster of colourful city lights in the valley overlooked by the dune.

"Wow," admitted Mulch, licking his lips. "Looks grand."

"I'll bet it is," remarked Artemis, trying to get a closer magnification of their areal view. "Looks like there's a circus in town."

•••

Mulch was the first to settle down in their hut, even if he had to take the couch. And he claimed the couch himself, finding it closer than the bed and the easiest thing to jump onto, and was asleep within minutes even though he knew full well that Artemis would have to put his things away because they blocked the door.

Zone laid Holly's figure down carefully upon the bed and bid them a quiet goodnight before walking out and heading towards his own hut.

Artemis sighed, unamused by the dwarf's antics. He decided to let the luggage wait till morning. He wasn't used to being a slob, but between a teenager's habits and having to move Mulch Diggumms's luggage...well. We all know what we'd prefer.

Artemis sat down beside Holly on the bed, wondering for the umpteenth time if she really wasn't suffering in Ethos right now. Surely, such a long period unconcious...

And, as if on cue, Holly parted her lips and mumbled something, lolling her head to a side.

"Holly?" asked Artemis at once, a finger on her pulse. "Holly, I need you to wake up. Now."

The elf smiled in her sleep and buried her head into the pillow.

Artemis turned her head back up. She could easily suffocate in that state.

"Major, this is serious. If you're still feeling the Mesmer, fight it."

Holly laughed, but she didn't open her eyes and remained asleep, unaware of the real world around her.

And, as if she'd finally heard his requests, she murmured a word he managed to catch. " _Artemis."_

Artemis roughly shook her by the shoulders, tightening his grip if that would help. "Yes, Major, it's me. We need you to come back to us."

Mulch's snores were loud enough to reach his ears, but other than that the night was dead silent. Artemis took a closer glance at the sleeping elf.

She wasn't awake. Just talking.

Artemis frowned. Then she couldn't hear him...?

The elf suddenly laughed again, a soft, carefree laugh, and he then heard her say something that she _probably_ never, ever wanted the real him, the one outside of her dreams, to hear.

" _You're kinda cute, Mud Boy."_

A pause while Artemis was taken aback and trying to process this somehow completely coherent -and rather unexpected- statement.

 _"I love you,"_ sighed the elf, before turning back on her side and slumping back into a quiet, wordless, potentially deadly sleep.

•

 **A/N; MWAHAHAHA! REVIEW FOR AN UPDATE! +insert devil grin emoji+**

 **-regards,**

 **shaadia.**


	7. Chapter 7: Live Subject

**Author's Note; So it seems I owe twenty plus people a good explanation for this horrible delay, and I'm happy to state that I have MORE than one good excuse for you.**

 **1) Exams happened. Exams are very important. And ours lasted two weeks.**

 **2) This was a tough chapter to write. Don't get me wrong, Foaly** _ **is**_ **my equestrian hero, but his bits were the most troublesome by far. It took me ages to compose the centerpiece of this chapter. I do hope it fulfills its intended purpose of giving you chills, dear reader.**

 **3) I'm just getting used to typing on a computer again. I used to be able to go on without looking at the keyboard, but my skills have become…rusty. Unused for ages now. I've taken a break from touch.**

 **4) I've started rewriting the TCSB rewrite- AGAIN. I was twelve when I first posted it on here, and 11 when I actually plotted the whole thing out, but my 14 year old self is a bit obsessive, you see…I have this incredible urge to edit EVERYTHING. But you guys are supportive and overlook my clichés and OOC moments…and for that I am very grateful, so here I am promising you this fanfic that WILL live up to your expectations. Love you all so much. Special mention must be made of Courage and Love, Gespenter, AFantasyDaydreamer, Guest (leave a name next time!), Saturn, Elisarah and Bravemaridin for reviewing the previous chapter, It means such a lot to me especially with lengthy chapters like these.**

 **Disclaimer; AF is the property of one Mr Eoin Colfer.**

 **Enjoy!**

—•:;*"~€—

CHAPTER SEVEN: LIVE SUBJECT

Holly felt a gentle rocking under head, and that made her feel all the more inclined to sleep. Last thing she remembered, she'd fallen asleep after a few unsuccessful shots of caffeine after a whole night exchanging stories with a certain arrogant little Mud Brat…

 _Man._ Whatever.

She decided, once she woke up, she was going to whack him in the jaw just like she had yesterday…wow, the real world felt like ages ago now. Wait. The real world?

Holly creaked an eye open.

Then where was she now?

It was clear; this was still the garden, she was still on the same bench, the one that rocked ever so slightly like a hammock in the puffs of breeze…

"Sleeping on duty now, are we Captain Short?"

"It's Major," corrected Holly automatically, seconds before registering to whom the voice belonged. She immediately shot her eyes open after that.

Artemis was leaning over to peer at her, a smug expression on his face.

She frowned, trying to place why. She quickly ran her fingers over her face- no, the problem wasn't there. What did he have to look so victorious about? Had she said something?

Then it all crashed into her with the force of machine gun fire.

The night before, the flowers…the Fronddamn _flowers!_

She put on her fiercest scowl, and she meant it. "It was nothing."

Artemis sighed in mock disappointment. "Really, _Major,_ one would normally take a passionate confession to a Mud Man as little more than nothing."

" _Passionate-!"_ spat Holly, sitting up straight now. "It was the D'Arvitted flowers in your bloody garden that…that _scent_ that just…" She stopped, and her voice dipped to dangerous depths. "Are you sure you didn't plan this somehow, Fowl?"

Artemis shrugged. "I believe you're the one who owes me an explanation, Holly."

The elf crossed her arms, the humiliation of the whole thing finally catching up to her complexion. "Really."

The human make a dismissive gesture with a flick of his wrist, but the look on his face meant that she wouldn't be forgetting her little slip-up for as long as she lived. "Ah, drop it, Captain. I wouldn't be convinced of your innocence whichever way you put it."

Holly was internally fuming, but instead of digging her own grave a little deeper she said, "Where's my mother?"

Artemis jabbed a finger in an ill-defined direction. "Waiting for a word with you. Apparently she heard us last night."

So much for precaution.

This time the elf just made sure her scowl conveyed a message. "I do not want anything to do with you, Fowl, not unless it's essential to the Fairy race, and not along those lines anyway." She swung her legs over the side of the hammock. "So if you'll excuse me…"

Artemis stood his ground, unwilling to let her leave without suffering his presence a few minutes longer.

"About the flowers, Captain."

Holly sighed. "I said I'd kill you later, didn't I?"

"The flowers did nothing," said the human simply, trying in vain to subdue his smug expression. "I believe they are a tactic crafted and handed down by generations of your ancestors, some of whom have been recorded in human mythology as miracle-workers or deities. Your great grandfather, who I believe us Mud Men are familiar with as Cupid, came up with that particular trick, as your mother told me. The scent is an intoxicant, yes, and _interestingly_ will substitute as a…shall we say, _truth serum-_ "

"Get out of my hair," growled the elf, swinging to get out over the other side. Feeling unusually lagged, she took several difficult steps, but deliberately so, in the other direction without sparing another glance at the arrogant Mud Man.

A few yards further and Holly again met the one person she'd expected never to see again—real world, yeah right. As far as she was concerned, _this_ was the real world, she was happy, and she didn't plan on leaving it for Ethos if given the choice.

…

Gilemo was a strange sort of town, messily spread out in a valley below several overwhelming sand dunes. It was as if the whiffs of time had been particularly favourable on the town itself, though; while it looked remote and admittedly dusty and dull from the top of the dunes at daytime, at night the town dropped its veil of old age and turned into a festival of bright and plentiful lighting, a new-age feature that came across to the casual observer as unbelievable. The townsfolk were for the most part poor people, but the town itself earned an income and a name as a tourist rest- thus also equipped with a handful of coffee stops, plentiful clusters of souvenir stalls and its own open-air amphitheater that even Artemis had to admit was impressive, at least according to the exaggerated tales of the locals.

Artemis and Mulch met the other half of their team in one such coffee stop at an early hour of the day; while not an altogether dingy establishment, the glass was yellowed and spoilt with posters, and the Sprite waiter hovered enough to be bent against the ceiling.

He did not dare even take in the scent of his black coffee when it arrived. Spotting the submerged fungal growth was enough.

"How's Holly?" asked Caleb, after a brief greeting. "Is she conscious yet?"

Artemis shook his head. "No, but there is...at least I hope it is, development."

Caleb shot his bodyguard a worried glance before he wearily inquired, "Talking?"

"Talking, yes."

"Depends on what she said."

Artemis frowned. He was not about to disclose this truth...for the sake of more people than himself. "The words weren't all that clear, actually. Does it really matter what she said?"

"Sorta," Caleb sniffed his own coffee and came out green. " _Ugh-_ well,if she said something like _Let me out of here, Koboi!_ –which I've actually heard from someone before, by the way– it means she's fighting it and she'll soon be back with us, cut off from Ethos until the next Freak works its magic."

"And if she was, say, casually talking to someone else?"

"Then it means she's starting to believe it's real and it'll be harder to let go of Ethos," said Caleb. "For some people, Ethos tries attracting them to the place, making them want to stay. And it's only when it's too late that the facade falls apart and they see the real thing. Please don't tell me that's what happened?"

"I think it is," muttered Artemis. "Is there nothing we can do to help?"

"Yes," said Zone gravelly. "Find the keys and get the serum."

Mulch raised an eyebrow. "So we aren't going to have her around? Bummer."

"She would certainly be an asset," agreed Artemis. "But if it's the only thing we can do, we might as well continue the mission without her. We'll have to send her back to your town. It'll guarantee her safety, but isn't going to impact our journey well. It means no advantages of fairy healing and one less fighter."

"Like I said. Bummer."

Artemis shook his head. "Let's continue. A successful mission will mean we can recover Holly. We're going to have to locate this statue and..."

"And the fairy magic we need to shrink it?" asked Caleb miserably.

"I've got that covered," said Artemis, but he didn't elaborate despite earning a few questioning glances. Everyone, after all, considered black magic a very dangerous gift.

••–

 **Haven City.**

Foaly wasn't used to being in the middle of the action. Well, he was _always_ in the middle of the action, but it was usually through communications and providing essential advice from the safety of his beloved Ops Booth. He was present with the soldiers in spirit. In body, however, he usually wasn't, and it wasn't even in his job description, and now he finally knew what Holly and Julius had to go through almost every day of their careers.

Except _he_ was downright terrified of the troll smashing several barrels of oil over the building right now, and at the alarming rate at which the fire was spreading.

The troll screeched at the air and grabbed its own dreadlocks with massive, razor-sharp talons, looking like it had utterly lost its mind. Its hairs were starting to catch fire but it didn't run. It stayed on the spot, on the roof of the burning building, howling as if something else, something _worse_ than the fire was attacking it.

"On my mark!" barked Trouble, holding one of Foaly's state-of-the-art tranquilizer guns over his shoulder. He was currently standing on the roof of a squad van for the essential height, but he could have _hurried_ a little in his aiming.

Several dart guns aimed at the troll at once. Foaly had told them a stray shot could explode another one of the oil tanks loaded onto the roof. They couldn't miss their target.

Said target wasn't easy. The troll trashed about, kicking in the flames, swinging its shaggy arms in crazed circles, hitting several other tanks in the process and threatening another explosion, even more flames. Trolls weren't the brightest creatures but for one to be behaving _this_ way–

Foaly was actually standing a distance away from the action, but he saw it all, and an image flashed in his mind.

The fairies yesterday, how they'd reacted to Opal's monster.

His eyes widened at the maddened troll.

The scene of action was, as usual, crowded. Press. Curious fairies with a death wish. Sensible ones scurrying as far away from it as possible and, needless to say, traffic. Lots of traffic. Too many lives. There were too many innocent lives around here.

 _Evacuate,_ thought Foaly. _We need to evacuate before it turns up._

"Vinyayà!" he shouted, making a mad dash for the elf who was currently trying her level best to keep back the cameras and curious break-necks. "It's Koboi! It's another one of Koboi's–"

Another gas tank exploded. The flames engulfed the troll completely.

"What?"

"Koboi's...creature..."

Speak of the devil and he turns up. It was at that exact moment that a loud, painful ringing broke out in their ears, spread across the city and the people like the shockwaves of some explosion. Everything faded but the sound. The sight, the touch, the senses...and all the cries of pain and crumpling of figures to the hard pavements squeezed out of existence completely.

Foaly didn't know what happened. To the throngs of ordinary fairies or Trouble's squad. His world didn't make sense to him anymore. He wanted to just pass out, give in, let Koboi's damn monster take him for all he cared because...because...

 _Holly's gone. Root's gone. There's no point in fighting anymore._

It made perfect sense, so he found himself relenting. Surrendering. Admitting that Opal Koboi had outsmarted him and this scheme of hers wasn't going to fail...

Vinyayà shouted something directly in his ear. How was she still on her feet? Oh well, it didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore.

 _Opal Koboi, Empress of the World._

 _Hail Opal,_ thought Foaly bitterly, as even the blurry images of the flames, the comatose fairies and Vinyayà's yelling all turned into a pitch black abyss of nothingness.

 **.**

Wing Commander Raine Vinyayà paced the corridors with a look of pure hatred on her face. Koboi. Koboi. A total of fifty six comatose fairies because of Koboi, two LEP squadrons included. Foaly knocked out again. She didn't know how or why _she_ was still awake, but she swore to herself that it was a mistake Koboi would regret for the rest of her painful and eternal imprisonment sentence in Howler's Peak.

Argon's clinic was full now and the LEP was paying the bill. Another contributing factor.

Vinyayà held back a frustrated shout. This was not the time or place. This was a bloody clinic, for heaven's sake, where _fifty six_ rooms were occupied by mysteriously unconscious fairies.

A female Sprite attendant tittered over to her nervously.

"Eh, Wing Commander, Mr. Foaly is awake, but it's advisable to wait–"

"Which ward?" cut in Vinyayà.

The Sprite went pale. "104."

"Thanks."

"Y-You can't–"

"LEP," said the elf, flashing her badge for less than half a second before she started walking sturdily in search of the ward.

Vinyayà didn't even bother knocking, and the door wasn't even locked. She just walked inside and started talking.

"Foaly, two squadrons are down including Major Kelp's. The Council has officially announced that it's a Koboi crisis and HQ is in lockdown."

"W-Who's...Acting Commander?" wheezed Foaly, clearly not in the state to function.

"Me," said Vinyayà tonelessly. "Like I said, HQ is in lockdown to keep our people safe until we know our enemy and are prepared for them. The media is issuing an official public warning to stay indoors and not go to work. This is a serious situation, Foaly, and we need you to think."

Foaly groggily sat up in the bed made for centaurs. The Clinic, he knew, was charging a premium on the LEP just for his special ward. "Commander, it's kind of difficult to think," he admitted. "Look, I heard that noise and blacked out, and when I black out I find myself in this..." He couldn't hold back a shiver. " _Weird_ place. That's where the others are. I know. I saw them."

Vinyayà frowned. "So everyone who's in a coma right now?"

"Trapped in there, yes. I don't know how I managed to escape. I don't know how you never got _affected_ in the first place."

"I was thinking the same thing."

"Unless," Foaly rubbed his forehead. Thinking was getting exceedingly difficult. "Is there any kind of...uncommon drug you're taking? Some sort of vaccine that not everyone has? It could be the reason you're completely immune..."

Vinyayà drummed her fingers on the tabletop. "No. Nothing like that."

"Are you sure?"

The elf sighed, closing her eyes, relenting. "It's not something I take often, but..."

"Please, this is the fate of fairykind here."

"Alright. A non-prescription painkiller that's damn expensive," said Vinyayà. "It's a threat to a fairy's system anyway. Not completely legal."

Foaly sighed under the spell of the drugs he'd been administered. "We're all a little above the law, Wing Commander."

Vinyayà waved this off with a dismissive hand. "It doesn't matter. I'm fine I was _above the law_ if it's going to help us resist Koboi, so I want you to test the drug and tell us for sure. That's an order."

Foaly groaned. "Really? My mind just took a beating and admitted that Koboi outsmarted me..."

Vinyaya gave him a pointed look. "Does it look like you have the luxury of choice?"

"No. Not really."

"Get up. We can't be paying your bills for longer."

•

"Commander...what in Frond's name am I looking at?"

This came in unnaturally collected tones from Foaly, whose face gave an altogether opposite impression of his mood, having had turned a bleached complexion in sharp contrast to the soft grey interior of the lab's viewing booth.

Vinyayà rapped on the wide screen that overlooked the entirety of the vast white hall of long tables and glass boxes, a group of panicked (excited?) bio-nerds (as the rest of the LEP called their expensive biology unit, which had been established only with the funds of the Haven Science Society, and while _technically_ not LEP property or even located in the same building, considered Foaly a distinguished member even though biology was _technically_ not even his area) gathered like ants around one specific cage, one large and strong enough to hold a troll, but even from this distance both Commander and centaur could bet their lives that the thing was _not_ a troll or even a buck demon.

"I could ask the same question," murmured Vinyayà, rapping the screen again out of sheer agitation. "I _told_ them to sedate it but not to transfer it in case-"

"No, Commander," cut in Foaly dryly. "I mean _what_ that _thing_ is even doing here and how for all the D'Arvits in the world you managed to capture it."

Vinyayà fumed, knocking against the glass with her knuckles again as if it would solve anything. "Don't call me _Commander_ , Foaly. I'd prefer you address me by my real rank, however long that is."

Foaly whinnied. "Fine, _Wing Commander_ , would you mind giving me some details?"

"The _thing_ got caught under some rubble," explained the elf, crossing her arms and staring further into the scene below. "It was out cold for sure, but some civilians reported the discovery and I had a team sent there with sedatives at once. So yes, the creature isn't a threat for the time being, because some of the HSS members were at Police Plaza to administer right doses."

Foaly couldn't resist a dramatic sigh. "Twenty four hours without me, and everything falls apart."

Vinyayà snorted. "Yes, Foaly, we're glad to have you back, even if the HSS _did_ offer their services free of charge..."

"I'm here, aren't I?" said Foaly hurriedly.

Vinyayà nodded firmly. "Get to work, and give us results soon."

"Your wish is my command, _Wing Commander_ ," said Foaly seriously, even though he sneaked a little bit of smug awareness into the title; Vinyayà, on his hypothesis, was only opposed to the use of the address _Commander_ on account of the fact that she had indeed not forgotten the elf to whom the rank actually belonged; and while no one else had, either, coming from the Wing Commander this was a statement that brought him one step closer to winning the office betting pool.

.

Foaly made his way through the crowd of bio-nerds just as a child would a garden of butterflies; eager to reach that one important specimen, but unwilling to damage the rest. So he carefully batted them aside, not taking full advantage of his hind legs, and arrived through the sea of so-called butterflies to find himself confronted with undeniably the most important specimen of the lot.

Koboi's creature.

From a distance Foaly had experienced that the _thing_ could send shivers rattling his spine and prick goosebumps into his skin, but up close now, actually staring into its irisless whites and hollow cheeks, being close to touching the sunken creases and the gnarled cartilage that caved into the gap between its visible ribcages and its strong jaws with shark-like teeth...

The creature was shackled, humanoid figure bound tightly above its head as it hung upside down behind a wide glass screen.

The thing was out cold, but Foaly took a step back.

"Dear Frond," he murmured, more to reassure his startled pulse than anything else. "What _is_ that thing? And where did it _come_ from?"

The primitive chattering of the HSS workers died down as the centaur's presence was first really felt, and most of them suddenly wore professional facades as though awaiting orders. Despite Vinyaya's threat to exclude him in the proceedings, it appeared as though the bio-nerds were under orders to heed his every word. Good. He was going to need some extra hands.

"What are the tests you've run so far?" He put as much authority into his tone as he could muster, firmly refusing to succumb to the fear he still felt beside the sedated creature.

A scraggly brown-haired young elf, with colourful smears across the front of his lab coat stepped up from the crowd to answer. "Everything we got, sir. Cross-references with known species, habitats, evolutionary relationships-"

"And did that work?" asked Folay impatiently.

"No," admitted the worker dejectedly.

"Run them again," said the centaur. "But if nothing worthwhile turns up, leave it. It's not going to help us anyway. This creature is not from around here."

"If it were a genetic mutation, sir…"

"A _deliberate_ genetic mutation," corrected Foaly. "Check, but I doubt you'll find much. This sort of thing, especially if Koboi orchestrated it, would prove difficult to crack under ordinary tests. You won't find any weaknesses, believe me. Take some guys to work out the biology."

The elf nodded eagerly before leading away a crew of childishly excited volunteers to a far corner of the theatre.

"And I'll handle the magic," muttered Foaly, grabbing an empty syringe off a tabletop. "It was useless asleep, correct?"

A few nervous butterflies nodded.

Without waiting for objections, Foaly headed for the cage and flicked a heavy switch on its door. A portion of the glass slid aside, and the containment gases made an angry hissing noise as they flowed to the outside.

One especially bold fellow close to the centaur's hindquarters raised an urgent concern meekly. "Sir, its magic is capable of inducing comas…"

Foaly tossed him the syringe.

"Get me your strongest caffeine shot," he ordered. "And anyone knows a pharmacy?"

.

Grub Kelp was not your best bet at coming out as _Hero of the Month_ , but the whiny little elf did have his moments…occasionally. It depended on who you asked, because that depended on how convinced they were that Grub's older brother would have his revenge if he got wind of his sibling being called a coward. It was wholly another matter that Trouble would not normally bat an eyelid for said sibling's honour. But Grub stated, and felt, otherwise. He had taken on the Mud Man Butler during the Fowl siege, for Frond's sake, and lived to tell the tale! And as Butler had taken down a troll, if you worked out the axiom, _Grub Kelp_ could technically brave a troll any day as well. A pity, though, that few seemed to appreciate this fact, and a greater pity that few of that lot were ladies. Grub could've done with some popularity among the ladies.

But none of these tidbits were relevant, as of now; all he could do at the moment was stare at his brother's comatose form and hope and pray that Mommy wouldn't blame him for it.

Alright, if he was being honest with himself, concern over his own safety was not the only concern he felt. Whatever else Trouble Kelp had been to him, he was still family; and if you squinted really hard to read between the lines, he wasn't all that bad as a big brother.

 _Wherever you are right now,_ thought Grub absently.

He certainly hoped Trouble would wake up before Mommy noticed.

The junior officer spent entire minutes lamenting on this, staring mindlessly at his brother's face, the clock on the wall and the unused bag of IV fluid hanging on a hook at a distance. He was completely engrossed in his thoughts and concerns to an extent that, when someone merely knocked then pushed open the door from outside, he jumped in his seat and felt his pulse skyrocket.

"M-Major!" he stuttered, hurrying to his feet and lifting his fingers up in a shaky salute. Well, he thought defensively, it wasn't as though he'd been _expecting_ that.

Vein looked deadly serious for some reason, Grub observed. Not that he didn't _always_ look like that. "I apologize for the intrusion, Corporal, but I have an immediate assignment for you."

Grub considered this. He could file a complaint about nearly getting a heart attack, or he could stay in his chief officer's good books by just accepting the assignment, whatever it was.

"I'm giving you a choice in this one," muttered Vein, which was surprising, because Grub was _never_ given a choice, but the look on his face was scary enough to deter any questioning. "It's about Major Kelp."

Grub looked at his brother, alarmed. What had he done to deserve an assignment Trouble would've taken usually? It was not fair. He was a Junior. He could get killed in that sort of assignment.

"W-What do I have to do?"

"Visit Foaly."

Grub heaved a relieved sigh. Oh, that was all. He could handle that. Had the Junior officer been in possession of just a little more general intuition, though, he would've figured he wasn't being asked to visit Foaly for nothing.

He secretly hoped, however, that this assignment would not somehow put his infamous bravery to the test.

…

And he turned out to be completely, utterly and unfortunately, very, very terribly wrong.

Grub's initial reaction had been a yelp. Almost immediately afterwards his blood had turned cold, his knees had started to shake and he'd nearly passed out because of the asphyxiation that followed. It was only Foaly's firm slap in the face that kept him conscious.

"M-Mommy!" shrieked Grub, his eyes popping to the size of saucers in a reflex reaction to the slap.

Foaly rolled his eyes. "I can understand your fear, Corporal, but for Frond's sake, show a little backbone. I wanted you for this assignment because I thought you'd _want_ to do something for Trouble."

The Corporal blinked rapidly, unnoticing of the flocks of bio-nerds staring curiously at him. "Trubs?"

Foaly spun him around to face the shackled beast. Grub flinched again, and almost wailed.

"But-!"

"Do you _want_ to help or not?" asked the centaur dangerously. "Haven help me, Corporal, but I _will_ kick you straight out of here if you waste another second sniveling."

Grub sniffed, but he turned away from the nightmarish creature in its cage. And in what was admittedly an incredible show of bravery, soon mumbled the word "Fine."

Even Foaly had to rear back in surprise. "Really?"

"Yes," squeaked the Corporal. "For Trubs. But, er, what do I have to do?"

Batting away some excitedly chattering HSS lab pixies, Foaly headed to what had become his temporary work desk and produced an unlabeled card of tablets. Grub stuck out his lower lip.

"Mommy's told us never to take unlabeled—"

"I'm going to kick you."

"I'll take it!"

Foaly snorted humourlessly. "This is the safest part of the plan."

Grub looked ready to bolt out of the lab, so on Foaly's order a bunch of elves hurriedly barricaded the only door with their bodies.

The Junior whimpered. "I didn't sign up for this."

"Unfortunately," Foaly galloped over to the cage and found the heavy switch. "You never had a choice in the first place."

Minutes later, Grub was watching helplessly as the containment gases hissed and, amidst blaring sirens and red warning lights, the glass doors shut close once again. Except this time the cage had two occupants.

The _thing_ was breathing, Grub could see that. Its eyes lacked lids, lenses and irises, but he could feel them almost drilling into his soul. Trying, anyway. Grub Kelp was brave, so no ugly second-rate troll was going to…

The creature emitted a hollow moan, and Grub jumped. He swallowed. Okay, so the thing wasn't just alive, it was awake. He looked over at Foaly pleadingly, but the gases had misted over the glass walls and all he could make out were the distinct shapes of the centaur and his assistants.

Grub's eyes haplessly flickered back to his fate. The creature was staring right at him, its wrinkled chest making ever-so-slight heaves. He noted for the first time the truly harrowing nature of its body; gnarled at the midriff, very much akin to a graveyard tree sucked of all its nutrients centuries before. The creature had strong legs, humanoid, but ending in disproportionate black talons that, even from its suspended position, managed to touch the ground.

"It's tied up," whimpered Grub, in an attempt to reassure himself. It didn't work. So instead, he braved the creature directly and proclaimed a little louder, "You're tied up!"

The creature sucked in a breath through its nostrils, thinning its shriveled skin further. The breath was never released. Apparently it needed that bit of air to start humming.

His blood ran cold all over again. The low sound plunged to impossible depths, yet piercing his eardrums and starting an echoing ring inside his head…a ring that hit him hard enough to elicit the response of trembling knees and ultimately a collapse altogether.

An image flashed across his mind. Just for a second, it couldn't have been longer than that. But he felt as though he'd landed on the lifeless earth of Ethos rather than the white tiles of the cage, and where he should've heard Foaly and the lab rats' shouts his ears caught the agony of the cursed, the eternally lost…

Grub shot to his feet and took up a defensive stance, albeit trembling at every inch, but the change of scene was gone. The creature was still shackled before him. It was breathing, but it wasn't working. It was simply alive, like it had been minutes before.

The containment gases hissed a second time in protest as the doors buzzed open hurriedly- not fast enough, Grub felt. Foaly batted aside an assistant who advised a plague mask and was immediately at his side, sprouting questions and rambling on about some fact or the other. In his mentally beaten state, Grub only managed to catch the words "willpower" and "definitive solution". He managed an unintelligible snort. He'd had enough willpower for a lifetime, thank you.

''

Foaly caught up to Vinyayà even though it took him near a gallop to match her normal pace of walking.

"I tested it," he panted.

"And?"

"And we have a possible breakthrough, but it's _very harmful_ to the average fairy's system. We can't distribute the drugs to citizens. Our best chance is keeping them away from the action."

Vinyayà stopped her fast walking and gave him a scrutinizing look. "Are you absolutely sure?"

"A hundred percent. We can use it on our squads, but not often. Only when there's an attack," Foaly found to his relief that he had caught his breath by now, so he proceeded to talk normally. "But Opal is not to be underestimated. She probably knows what makes immunity, and she's probably working on it. We won't have this leverage for long."

Vinyayà clenched a fist. "I want that pixie to show her face," she scowled, but nodded at the centaur. "Announce this to the people who need to know. We've already lost Root, Short and Kelp, and we might not win this one if we lose any more."

"There are new squad leaders?"

"Bigger squads. Ash Vein's and Captain Newt's are to be doubled. I want them both scourging every inch of Haven City on patrol. Can you spread the word, Foaly?"

Foaly nodded, if a little nervously. "Wing Commander, how about…"

"Someone needs to make a public statement," answered the elf. "I'll handle the press. I don't want to be remembered as a leader who chickened out at a time like this."

"If I may, Wing Commander…you're starting to sound a little like ol' Julius."

A smile twitched at Vinyaya's lips, but it didn't show itself eventually. "Observant, centaur. We have no time to waste."

Foaly resisted the urge to grin and/or roll his eyes, before he turned to make his way to the main COMs system of Police Plaza.

••

 **The suburbs. Haven City.**

They had been best friends for as long as they could remember. They were always together, up to activities their parents adoringly dubbed as _mischief_ , and it also had to do with the fact that they were close neighbours. Casa and Niki had an ages long tradition of spending their entire weekends in a large treehouse build especially for the purpose. They belonged to one of those well-off families who could afford a plot of land for a whole variety of the biologically altered trees that grew for the fairy population underground. Calling it merely a _plot of land,_ in Casa's case, was like calling the Big Ben _big_. Her front yard that hosted several tall trees and the treehouse was a widespread area large enough to be considered a forest all on its own, so much so that the boundaries couldn't even be seen unless you walked along them.

The best friends were flipping through a pile of colourful society magazines and passing comments at the _weird_ ones. A perfectly normal, fun pastime for kids.

"And _Skylar Peat_ ," squealed Casa, somewhat forcibly showing the image to Niki. "She's sooo pretty. She hasn't even had surgery, she's actually that tall!"

"Uh huh," acknowledged Niki, who was more interested in a column about wing designs. Needless to say hers _wasn't_ a society magazine.

Casa pouted. "She's acting as Holly Short in the new movie." It was a ruse that would certainly grab her friend's attention, and it did; Niki immediately grabbed the magazine to look at it.

" _Bleugh_ ," she sounded strangled. "How can _she_ act as LEP? I'm starting a petition against this."

Casa looked offended. "She's pretty!"

"That's all she is. She doesn't even look fit. It's like she has a complicated healthy diet and _no exercise."_

"Whatever," Casa withdrew her magazine. "Honestly, something tells me that you're going to end up doing some job meant for guys."

"That's remarkably anti-feminist for you to say."

"You honestly want to spend your days chasing goblins and trolls?"

"What if I do?" protested Niki. "Better than the fashion runway, right? Service to the people."

"Dangerous and stupid."

"I know you care about my health and all but _ugh_ , you're like Mum," Niki rolled her eyes and went back to her _Impactology_ magazine. "Anyway, did you hear about that weird attack yesterday?"

"Ooh. Tell me."

"Don't you ever watch the news?"

" _Haven High_ goes at the same time," Casa excused herself. "So what happened?"

"Well, there was apparently this weird creature. It could use the _Mesmer_ or something."

"Whaaat?"

"Yeah, it just made this sound like–"

A loud ring reverberated in their ears. Casa winced.

"Ouch."

Niki frowned. "Wait, I didn't–"

The sound came again, piercing the insides of her ears in what felt like a painful twist of the sounds in the normal environment, and the ringing repeated, hitting higher notes each time.

She struggled to her feet, palms pressed tightly against her ears, but tears were stinging in her eyes and she couldn't make out the world around her.

Niki leaned against the open window, and every limb felt weak. Her squirming vision barely caught sight of the more obvious things like the ground of fallen leaves, so the...the massive figure that stood motionless directly below the treehouse...

One word came to mind. Her best friend's name. What had happened? Where was she?

Niki's eyes found the right thing, but it was too late. Casa had rolled to the floor, chin pointed upwards and eyes limply closed. She was breathing, but something...wasn't right.

Then Niki gave up. She was just some little kid with impossible dreams. She could never join the LEP. They would never take her. She certainly couldn't...fight...that thing...

 _I'm useless._

Why stick in this realm any longer?

Niki's knees buckled beneath her and, before she knew it, she was unconscious, softly, _barely_ breathing beside her comatose friend.

•

 **Marine Research Facility, edge of the Dome.**

 **Atlantis.**

Brent Olio had just finished another stressful voyage down to depths in search of an alleged _miracle fungi_ that supposedly grew on the sea bed. Despite the new technology they'd got with the expanded budget, nobody in his team had managed to go that far down. It was risky, and it was frankly terrifying. Brent cared for his life more than a miracle fungi that probably didn't even exist.

Walking on the rim of the outermost Dome, he approached the city gates. While the officials would welcome him with the states of experienced security personnel, his superiors would certainly make him feel a lot worse. Also the fact that he was head of his team and _he'd_ been the one to call the mission off, so he was in this alone.

"Research," he told the guard tiredly, as the other water Sprite scrutinized his toolkit. Firearms weren't allowed in pro Atlantis, so this precaution was always taken. Too much of heat radiated could damage the main Dome that protected the city.

He was eventually allowed in through throngs of transit passengers making their way past him to the inner Dome. Brent had no business there. He took a left turn to where his workplace was; and braced himself.

The other Sprites in his team had long since deserted him and opted to their rightful _lunch break_ – if he got fired, Brent realized, this was the last lunch break he would have. And he already hated lunchtime anyway. His stomach was growling.

Captain Fern did _not_ look happy upon seeing him.

"Empty-handed," growled Fern, who had a habit of talking two words at a time.

"Yessir. Sorry sir," said Brent, sounding as inferior as he could. Fern liked that kind of attitude from the people who worked for him.

"Second day," reminded the Captain.

"It was particularly difficult, sir," Brent gulped. "We need to get used to the new tech."

"New tech," repeated Fern, his eyes shifting over to the transparent ceiling of the facility.

Brent didn't follow his gaze despite being naturally curious. He continued to look at his feet humbly and with as much guilt as he could muster.

"Yessir. The new oxygen tanks. But if we were allowed a few practice dives..."

"Practice dive," murmured Fern, his voice growing distant. "Yes, practice..."

Brent frowned. "Sir?"

"New tech...practice dive..." Fern seemed transfixed on the ceiling. Deciding it didn't matter how, Brent cast his glance upwards.

He nearly screamed.

There, through the ceiling, he could see the Dome above them...cracking. It was a tiny crack, minuscule, and Fern would have only seen it because the ceiling was directly above them, but...

An elf pointed at it and yelled something. Then all hell broke loose.

All ten emergency sirens in the building went off at once, scattering bright flashes of red light across the floor. There was screaming, there was frantic running, the facility turned into a holding cell for panicked creatures on a stampede. Impossible crowds of fairies clustered at the exits, pushing, scrambling, trying to escape the fate that would await them otherwise.

Brent didn't do any of it. He couldn't. He was too much in a state of shock. He couldn't even hear the blaring sirens of warning.

"S-Sir," he stammered.

"Dome..." mumbled Fern, before he succumbed to his shock and passed out. Brent could only stare at his superior in utter horror. Was this how it was going to end? Were they both going to get crushed under the pressure of the depths when the Dome gave way?

He watched the rest of the fairies. Some had managed to get out. But the crowd getting accumulated at the mouth of the exit was helping no one.

Why was the Dome cracking?

Fate presented him with a quick answer.

 _Sound._

Very, very loud sound.

There were hundreds of them. Alien invaders. Or whatever they actually were. _They_ were producing the sound. They were spread across the rim and making their way to the interior of Atlantis.

Brent hated the sound. He couldn't stand it. He really couldn't.

The last thing he managed to do was press an emergency dial on his phone before he was driven completely senseless, and he tripped over his own feet and fell to the cold tiles of the facility, snoring.

•••

Caleb hopped down from the low roof and shook his head. "I don't see anything. According to the map it's _supposed_ to be somewhere around here, but what if it isn't? What if Opal's beaten us to it?"

Zone didn't reply. His eyes were still quietly scanning the wide, clustered areas around them. It was difficult to see much of the buildings or streets with the amount of people who crowded them, but given his height advantage he had it easier than Caleb. The boy poked his bodyguard in the arm.

"Zone, I said what if Opal's beaten us to it? In that case we just have to move on to the next key– duude, pay attention!"

Zone politely ignored him and scanned the scene even more carefully.

"We need to cross that gate," he said. It was almost difficult to hear him.

Caleb sighed. "I don't even see a gate."

The bodyguard effortlessly lifted him onto a massive shoulder, and he instantly spotted the gate.

"Okay, I see the gate, but how do you know it's in there?"

Zone showed him the map. Caleb almost slapped himself.

"'Kay, smart. But I don't see any..." He squinted at the small lettering. "Nope, doesn't say _golden statue_ anywhere."

"Hall of historical monuments," replied Zone quietly. "It's inside one of the buildings behind that gate. It's all one property. Used for the performing arts."

Caleb nodded. "Ooookay! We're in luck then! How hard is it to break into a museum?"

"Pretty hard."

His face fell. "OK. Right. But this is just a little town, so their security can't be _that_ efficient. Right?"

The bodyguard didn't even respond.

Caleb rolled his eyes. "Can we at least check it out? To see if we're right?"

Zone acknowledged this with a nod, and made his way through the crowd. It wasn't very difficult considering his stature. Caleb felt like he was riding one of his flying Dolphins, because people stared at him in amazement.

He couldn't help himself.

"Make way for the Prince of Weird!"

.

Behind the gate was an area completely devoid of people, with only grey paving stones laid across the square and a large building that surrounded it. Caleb got to his own feet to walk around the area and find any unlocked doors, but it looked like the museum was pretty serious about its stuff.

Until he found a broken window and crawled through it. Zone stood outside; he couldn't enter anyway. And they preferred not to attract attention by breaking down doors.

Caleb found himself in what was a dusty but large hall that smelt strongly of its polished floorboards. He flicked on a switch and all the lights turned on. He immediately tried to amend his mistake but the switch refused to budge. Caleb winced. Hopefully nobody would notice.

He walked up the grand oaken staircase, ignoring the loudly creaking steps, and soon found himself in a large balcony that overlooked a wide circular stage and its audience of maybe five hundred seats; something glinted behind the curtains. Caleb read the massive letter engraved into the wall.

 _Hall of Monuments._

Yep, that was it. And if there was glinting coming from it, there was probably a huge gold statue, too. He still had to be sure. Caleb decided he'd find another entrance to the stage, or the seating, but he was greeted with an unpleasant surprise the moment he turned.

"Trespassing, little boy?" asked the man-mountain. Caleb backed away into the railing. That guy was easily about _twice_ Zone's size.

"Er...just got lost," he replied meekly. "I mean, I'm not even from around these parts, so like..."

"Trespassers don't live," snarled the man, and lunged for him. It was so unexpected that Caleb almost flipped backwards, but an accidental reflex caused him to duck and the man missed his target. He didn't wait for another chance at luck. He ran. Down the shaky oaken staircase and into the hall– he could hear loud footsteps running behind him. Caleb liked to think it was loud because of the man's size and not his proximity.

 _There!_

He found the window and scrambled out of it as hurriedly as a mouse would a trap, except he didn't get caught. He immediately met Zone on the other end and ran without explanation.

Which was a good thing, because the moment they were past the gates, the square filled with security.

 **Meanwhile**

Mulch was quite happy to find that Artemis was, as usual, right.

The market did indeed present him with a lot of valuables. There was a whole section for shiny things. Mulch didn't even mind the smelly Mud Men who rudely brushed past him with baskets of fish and meat, and he didn't even mind the million odd people shopping for a million odd things. Hey, if he was right, this would only prove to be an advantage.

Mulch advanced on the shack carefully. It was a simple wooden stall that had some glamorous items on easy, within-reach display. If he couldn't pull this off he _wasn't_ a master thief. This was going to be the easiest daylight robbery he'd ever committed.

Mulch also had the advantage of lack of height. No doubt the half-asleep Mud Man behind the stall wouldn't notice him.

Mulch squirmed his way into a useful spot. He was crouched a little just behind the table now. It was a simple matter of grabbing...

He would've been successful if he had noticed a single detail earlier; all the gold chains and gem-studded earrings had been hammered into the table with a nail holding each in place. As the nails were fixed to the table, naturally, the entire table toppled the moment snatched a couple of chains.

The commotion was so sudden that Mulch almost forgot where he was.

Several other shopkeepers shouted a warning, and the shopping crowd themselves clustered around the scene to see what it was all about. Mulch kicked the table off his frame. Ouch. That was going to hurt a while...

Unfortunately, everyone had seen him.

He didn't have time to loose. Mulch grabbed as many of the precious items as he could and made a dash for it. Angry cries followed him and he knew his feet wouldn't make it that far. Well, desperate means called for desperate measures. He managed to get past the market area and bought himself some time. As soon as he'd finished the tunnel hole, the bunch of Mud Men chasing him had found him.

Mulch couldn't hold back a smirk at the horrified looks on their faces when they realized what he was about to do.

Shrugging, and quietly praising his intelligence, Mulch let loose a flurry of toxic dwarf gas and dived into the tunnel, leaving a heap of unmentionable waste products in his wake.

.

Artemis checked the elf's forehead for a fever. Nothing. She seemed like a completely healthy, sleeping person but he knew it wasn't going to work just waking her up. Holly could leave Ethos if she wanted to. It was no doubt that the place was indeed attracting her to it.

He unconsciously wondered about what he'd heard last night. There was as much chance of Holly having had said that as there was of him merely imagining it. He had been exceedingly worn out after the journey and the hours spent in the unforgiving heat. Artemis felt more inclined to believe that he hadn't actually heard those words; all sense of logic and common sense pointed against it.

Holly still looked peacefully asleep. What was she doing in Ethos right now? Getting acquainted with a long-lost loved one? It made sense that that was the kind of imagery the disguised trap would produce.

A black spark skipped along his index finger and he subdued it. It was doubtful whether he'd ever get used to the new magic, but at least it would prove useful in shrinking the statue...perhaps even healing, although that was a risk.

Artemis closed his eyes in thought. Black magic would not do for healing anyone besides the user; however, according to fairy myth, it was a force that combatted most other magic, and won.

Whatever the Freak had worked on her was some sort of magic. Certainly. It was possible that the right amount of his magic could effectively drive it out. The problem was the lack of scientific reason behind this theory. He could ask Mulch once he returned, but for a dwarf to know explicit details about the workings of magic was...rare, to say the very least.

And Mulch threw open the door, and a triumphant grin spread across a filthy, mud-stained face.

Artemis dared to hope.

"You located the statue?"

The dwarf shook his head, but was still grinning. Then he held out a handful of gemstones and precious chains, and although Artemis would have applauded under normal circumstances, today he just rolled his eyes.

"I'm happy for you. Really," he said, before turning back to Holly. He could try. It was a fully worthwhile risk to take.

Mulch sauntered over to them. "What're you doing?"

"I have a hunch."

"Hunch? Does Artemis Fowl have a _hunch_? That's not some big theory?" Mulch held his hand to his heart in shock. "My dear boy, I am proud of your sudden normalcy."

Artemis didn't even bother scowling. "I could jump-start her magic," he lied smoothly. "A violent procedure, so I'm going to need a quiet environment."

Mulch snorted. "Basically you're asking me to leave."

"Obviously."

"How are you going to...jump-start her magic? Electrocution?"

"Electrocution," Artemis nodded. Smart dwarf. It came a little close to the truth. "But it might go horribly wrong if you distract me."

Mulch sighed. "Might as well give her a Sleeping Beauty kiss while I'm gone."

Artemis had to scowl at that, if only to prevent the colouring in his cheeks. "Honestly now."

"Okay, okay, I'll give you yer privacy," said the dwarf with antagonizing teasing in his tone, waltzing over to the door. He left and slammed it shut.

"Sleeping Beauty kiss," muttered Artemis, flexing his fingers. "Alright, Major, let's see how well Ethos takes a shot of black magic."

.

"Let me get this straight," Holly raised a finger as if that might shut him up. It didn't, but right then a pretty sturdy gnome happened to cross their path and Artemis was forced to stop talking, unless he didn't at all mind bouncing back into the rotating doors of the mall they'd just exited. Holly spent a second in immense disappointment that this did not happen; it would've been a sight to behold and remember forever.

Artemis rolled his eyes patronizingly. "Please don't tell me you're still coming to terms with the combined society concept. It's been days."

Holly scowled. "Exactly. Just three days and I'm supposed to get used to this? The cashier was a _Mud Man._ The guy behind us in line was a _sprite._ How the heck does that work?"

"We are a united people," replied the Mud Man nonchalantly as they took to a zebra crossing alongside a pixette, a centaur and several humans.

"Unbelievable," breathed the elf. "The humans and the People share the surface. And the first place you show me is a D'Arvitting _mall_."

"You _did_ ask for substantial proof."

"Have I ever told you how much I want to punch you in the face?"

Artemis placed an arm around her shoulders in what was too friendly a gesture to be coming from him, but the elf had other matters to question.

"Multiple times, Major."

"How long has it been like this?"

"The traffic lights in red?"

"The _united society,_ D'Arvit! And how did I not know until two days ago?"

Artemis just shrugged. "Maybe you've lived in the real world for too long."

Holly was just about to snap back at what she was sure would be an insubstantial answer, but the real words that came from him were unexpected enough to make her freeze. Eyes disbelieving, she looked up to launch into a million questions, but it soon became apparent that her part-time human counterpart had other plans.

Artemis leaned in and kissed her, and right in the middle of countless eyes directly before the famed street sign of _5_ _th_ _Avenue, New York_.

And, considering that quite a few passers-by stopped to stare gaping, perhaps the combined population was not _quite_ ready for an interspecies PDA just yet.

The moment her senses kicked in, the elf jerked away from the contact, but that was not before someone a little more relevant than the random passers-by coughed pointedly from behind the sign.

"M-Mother," she started, eyes wide. "I can explain…"

"Perhaps later, Holly," said Coral Short quietly, but firmly, although her stern expression soon broke off into a smile. "Shoo away, Mud Boy. Aren't I allowed a little time with my daughter?"

Artemis shifted on his feet uncomfortably. "Very well. I'll just get going, then."

"You do that," said Coral curtly, taking Holly's arm and leading her away from the flock of gawking pedestrians. Soon enough, though, they stopped at a quieter part of the street and she faced her daughter fully.

"It wasn't me," began Holly immediately. "And I swear, next time I see that Mud Boy I'll-"

"Hush, child," laughed Coral. "Don't use that term. We're a united society, and humans consider it very offensive."

Holly frowned, stopping short. "Ah. I see."

"Still coming to terms with it?"

They started walking.

"I don't understand anything," admitted Holly, if more to herself than her mother. "How…how did this happen? _When_ did happen? I thought if the humans ever discovered the People it would be failed peace talks and war after that."

"The humans…" Coral absently gazed at a skyscraper that Holly failed to name. "Didn't discover us."

"Then what happened? Who did?"

"Nothing," said Coral, almost at once. "Nothing happened. This is how it's always been, dear."

Holly shook her head. "No. That can't be. After the battle of Taillite—" And she stopped short again. Then, synching with the realization that was dawning on her, she carefully ventured, "Artemis had a different answer to that question."

Coral raised an eyebrow teasingly at her. "It's Artemis now, is it? When did you two get close?"

Holly frowned. "You're dodging the question."

"You dodged my question. Come on, sweetheart, what's going on in that young mind of yours?"

Holly faltered in her steps. Her mind was supplying her with explanations that she did not like. "No. This…this doesn't make sense. How can you expect me to believe that…that humans and fairies share the surface, and it's been that way for years, or…or like you say, _forever_ …"

She met Coral straight in the eyes.

"Who are you?"

Coral laughed as if the question was ridiculous. " _Clearly_ you've been in the dark a little too long, Poppy. How have you forgotten everything about the world we live in?"

"This is not the world I live in," breathed Holly, taking a couple more steps back. Coral's face took on a look of disappointment, but the skyline of the city and its buildings seemed to darken around her. The chatters of pedestrians and excited tourists started to feel conceited in her ears. The perfect world she stood in was starting to fall apart. Bit by bit, building by building, each individual block in the pavements shunting into another place and never coming back.

The morning wind picked up and stirred into a howl just as cackles of electricity sparked around her arms.

 _Ethos_ , a voice screamed at her. _It's not real!_

But why not?

Coral laughed and said something.

Why couldn't it be real?

Her mind went into overdrive, half for, half against the true meaning of the place she was stuck in. Maybe a garden can't have popped up in the middle of the desert, but the _desert_ could have been the delusion. She had suffered a sink hole in the Atlantic and Freaks in the real world– it was probable that what she thought of as the _real world_ was actually Ethos.

Ethos was supposed to be some kind of prison. Some kind of horrible place. The garden and the city and its diverse people were anything but.

But the perfect world didn't make an ounce of sense. The perfect world was alien, foreign, utterly unbelievable.

Holly looked down at her fingertips, where violent black sparks hissed as if trying to burn some sense into her. Or, no, it was doing something better, something she suddenly wished it would do.

It was drawing her back.

Coral noticed and lunged, eyes wide with alarm, but it didn't last. She was no longer Coral Short. She was no longer even there. She was back in the garden, but it had grown colder, paler, whispering for her to come back. To return to it. Making promises she now knew were false.

The black magic was drawing her back to the real world.

A shopping mall accommodating humans and fairies? How on earth had she believed that?

Then Ethos turned violent and shot out invisible tendrils that grabbed for her legs, but Holly was ready. She kicked against the current, willed herself away from the garden. It didn't look like a paradise anymore. It was starting to fall apart for what it really that was. The cracked ground and the acid pits that Caleb had mentioned. The tortured souls who screamed for help, hope. She could even distinctly make out a few faces. Among them were both fairies and humans...and the pixie from the grocery store...and Trouble Kelp...

Holly's eyes widened with further shock, and realization.

Pathos had struck Haven City.

No. She didn't want to be here. She had a mission to complete and people to save. She wanted _out._

And fighting the current with her own magic, Holly willed herself back to the real world.

••

Artemis stepped back the moment Holly's magic kicked in, blue sparks that combatted the black, and an instant later the elf shot up, gasping for breath, eyes wide open and fully awake.

She spent several seconds staring around her surroundings, breathing heavily, and only eventually did she spot him.

"F-Fowl?" she asked, careful not to use _Artemis_ after what she'd been getting used to back there.

Artemis nodded, but didn't come any closer because of the sparks that still buzzed around her frame.

"Where am I?" tried Holly. "Is this still...Ethos, or am I back?"

"You're back," replied the Mud Man. "And you're welcome, by the way."

Holly stared at him. "The black magic was you."

"Obviously."

She ran a mental checklist. No nervous shifting, no sudden kisses. Yes, this was the real Artemis, and she felt like such an absolute _idiot_ for what she'd believed in Ethos.

"That place is messed up," she muttered, tiredly rubbing her forehead. "I can't believe...ugh, it doesn't matter. We have work to do. Where are we?"

Artemis sat on the couch, or rather, the arm of the couch, because the couch itself hosted a variety of different creepy-crawlies and dwarf odour. "We're in the town of Gilemo, and we are yet to locate the statue, the first key. You were out for a day. And don't think you can get away without further explanation on your part, Major. There's a lot about Ethos I might have to know."

"It's only been a day," Holly blinked, completely ignoring the human's unsatisfied curiosity. "Right. What time is it?"

"Evening, about seven. We'll have to check with Caleb if it's wise to let you sleep again so soon."

"I don't want to," said the elf, feeling a shiver along her spine at the recent memories. "I'm not going to return to that–D'Arvit."

"Major?"

Holly sat straighter. "Trouble. I saw Trouble."

Artemis raised an eyebrow. "I bet you did."

Holly scowled at him. "I meant Trouble Kelp, my colleague. There were fairies from Haven in Ethos, Fowl. They shouldn't have been unless..."

"Unless Opal's Freaks have already attacked," concluded Artemis, ever the know-it-all. "If it's any help, thanks to your stay in Ethos at least we know that bit of information. We need to be quick. Opal clearly doesn't waste any time."

"No, she doesn't," Holly swung her legs off the side of the bed. Her head still felt a little woozy, but she was going to ignore it if it took all her willpower. "Whatever the next phase of our plan is, I'm ready."

Before Artemis could reply, their attention was drawn to an urgent knocking on the door.

"We found it," gasped Caleb, when the Mud Man let him in. "We found the first key, but it isn't going to be easy."

…

 **Author's Notes; AND THAT CONCLUDES AN 18 PAGED CHAPTER! I am** _ **dying**_ **to know what you guys thought of this one. I'd really appreciate a review!**

 **Coming up; Colours, costumes and lions, along with one Julius Root finally making a real debut. Things are about to get outrageously out of hand.**

 **Cheers!**

 **The Princess of Weird XD**


	8. Chapter 8: Crack, Evac

**Author's Note; And I'm back after yet another lengthy unannounced hiatus! Yeah, I** ** _really_** **meant to update sooner, but holidays were eventful, I always seem to be having exams, I recently lost a few of my fanfic documents and I know you really couldn't care less about my excuses, so you may skip this part of you want.**

 **HAHA! TOO LATE.**

 **Sarite; I'm glad you're keeping up with this:) And thank you! Age doesn't play any role in writing. Us fourteen-year-olds, you and I, have greater potential than the world thinks ;)**

 **Gespenter; Thanks! Well..we'll just have to find out about that...**

 **Courage and Love; It's hard to promise anything...all I can say is that I'm trying my level best to keep everyone in-character. But thanks for the review! I'm glad you liked the chapter!**

 **Elisarah; AHAHAHHAHA XD Yes, spot on! We did miss a scene exactly like that, but I might leave that to the reader's imagination...Also, I'm incredibly grateful you're taking interest in how Foaly handles the Pathos situation. In my experience people normally skip over all the non-Artemis planning scenes and never comment on those. I do hope I pulled off the Haven/Atlantis incidents to meet your expectations!**

 **Reza Novaria; I'm so, SO sorry for my Ao3 hiatus. I'm really glad you like this fic and are still following despite having to find it again. Man, that must've been troublesome. I do hope you enjoy the rest of it. And thank you so much!**

 **. ; Thanks! Hope I updated soon enou– my, I am a jerk.**

 **berrybanana05; THANK YOU! That comment made my day:)**

 **Anonymous; And here I've finally updated!**

 **Cheers out to anyone reading this!**

 **Disclaimer: Artemis Fowl and associated characters are the property of Eoin Colfer.**

—•:;*"~€/—

CHAPTER EIGHT: CRACK, EVAC

Holly stared into her slightly distorted reflection in the mirror. It wasn't a particularly clean reflection, nor very attractive in most senses. Doubtless Zone had been given the task of carrying her across the desert to the town they were now in; while he'd done a splendid job with her transportation, much could not be said about her personal hygiene. Upon waking up she'd smelt and looked exactly like a person who was trapped in a nightmare for two days. But a nightmare where one found oneself living like a scoundrel under some bridge rather than a nightmare of lavish gardens and co-existing species.

Holly scrawled the popular Gnommish swear word _D'Arvit_ on the mist in the mirror before her.

She couldn't get over it. Ethos had captured her far too easily to mean any good. It had used lost loved ones, childhood fantasies, and a future to never be, and so it had seduced her, and it had worked. A fairy of Holly Short's willpower would not usually find herself drinking in the company of strangers, even, knowing the highly likely consequences; and yet she had fallen, fallen _oh-so-completely_ in love with the garden, a dream from childish ages ago, the promise, a lasting cry for a missed parent, the city, a period that would never come to pass.

And she'd almost paid her life for it.

Red-rimmed hazel eyes looked back at her warningly.

The ensuing future would have to be much more careful. Those eyes would have to stick out for danger, for the unorthodox methods of Ethos and Opal's Freaks. She was already well aware of the consequences otherwise.

Something crashed from outside the bathroom, yanking her from her tangle of thoughts. Holly groaned, leaning her forearms against the soaked mirror.

 _Get over it._

 _Get over Ethos, get over Mom, get over that damn kiss._

Holly stared at the disheveled elf in the mirror and saw her red eyebrows knit together.

Ethos hadn't given her a gift, it had made a promise it didn't plan on keeping and she now missed Coral Short even more than before. What she wouldn't give...

Holly physically shook the thought off. No. She wasn't going back. Not now that she's seen its true nature, and not after she'd glimpsed the urgency of their situation. Haven City was under attack. They didn't have a lot of time to find the serum or to stop Opal. She had to forget Coral and the shared surface, by all means. She could do without the distraction.

Having wrung her wet hair a tad violently, Holly emerged from the bathroom dressed in the most suitable of her packed clothes for the current mission; a pair of white pants and a pinstriped shirt, coupled together with the 1937 top hat. She'd briefly toyed with the idea of layering her face with powder and drawing herself a long lipstick grin like one of those Mud Man comic villains, but she had remembered just in time that a certain Mud Man present with them today would wholly make a fuss about not being inconspicuous enough.

Despite her earlier train of thoughts, Holly couldn't help but grin at what she saw in the room. While Mulch didn't look any more attractive than usual, the same thing couldn't be observed about the fussy Mud Person.

Artemis was, indeed, dressed in the ridiculous purple suit she'd found for him and checking himself worriedly in the mirror.

Maybe _he_ should try the powder and the lipstick...

Mulch, on the other hand, had found himself a gem-studded bow tie which glinted under the dim lighting of the room. "Tell me, Holly. Is this fetching enough for the ladies?"

Holly snorted, but couldn't help a laugh as she plonked herself on the bed in order to fit her shoes on easily. "Where'd you get that?"

Mulch winked. "Shopping trip."

"I'm not even surprised. Mud Man joined you?"

The dwarf pulled a face. "Mud Man here was too busy babysitting to be of any use."

Holly raised an eyebrow. "Babysitting?"

"You, obviously. He was getting kinda worried with you talking in your sleep and all that."

Holly froze, strap midway through the buckle. She had been talking in her sleep?

"Caleb said it was pretty serious. That you were getting rooted to the place, something like that," the dwarf rambled on. "I think he said you'd get stuck there."

Artemis spun around to face them and gave Mulch a disdainful look. "By all means, Mulch, tell the patient who was stuck in Ethos that she could've remained there forever. Reassuring to the extreme."

By now Holly was giving him such a concerned look that he didn't half wonder if his words had made the reality clearer.

"What was I saying?"

Artemis spent a couple of seconds only looking at her with an unreadable expression on his face. Finally, just as she was about to ask a second time, he answered.

"It was incorrigible," he started making for the door, but his eyes didn't leave their mark. "Why? Would it have been a problem?"

A sense of uneasiness was starting to take rein.

"No," replied Holly, meeting him dead in the eyes, though the slightest frown creased her brow. "Not at all."

••

"Ladies and gentlemen!" boomed a friendly yet commanding voice over the microphone, one that was neigh impossible not to listen to. "Are you here for a spectacle?" The lead announcer was obviously used to a packed audience, and admirably prepared for the unbreathable crowd compared to which his circus stage seemed minuscule. But it was a stage of wonders and talent, and it was the reason the whole town was here–two nights only. He loved the business. The industry? Mysterious. Exciting.

Ring upon ring of clamouring townsfolk, and perhaps even populace of the surrounding settlements, applauded, hammered and roared their unrestrained eagerness to get the show on. The quiet, dimly-lit townscape seemed to have come alive just now, just for the night, and its thudding heartbeat was the amphitheater and the circus stage. Here the spectacle had not yet started, but its veins were alight with excitement and dizzy anticipation. There were easily two thousand odd spectators clustered in the massive steps that made circles of seats.

The ringmaster, a comparatively minute piece of the picture on whom all attention was focused, walked around the rim of the vast stage, circling the polished floors and the prepared acts with unhidden glee. He shouted a few more words of assurance, reassurance, and further assurance of the brilliant feats they would all now witness. The crowd didn't stay quiet.

" _I SAID, ARE YOU HERE FOR A SPECTACLE?"_

Louder cheering. The new heart of the town seemed to beat even faster.

The ringmaster flicked the length of whip in his right hand, earning loud approval from those in the crowd who loved such theatrics. "Then a spectacle is what you'll get! I present to you first– our agile, acclaimed, _unbelievable_ trapeze artists to start the show!"

Seven slim figures on the edge of sky-high platforms gave the crowd a wave each.

The music chimed, and their acts began.

Within the packed audience of humans and fairies, from a distance above and away from the stage with an almost aerial view, Artemis's comment on the darker aspects of a circus went blatantly ignored. Holly simply watched, chin in hands, the trapeze artist fling herself easily from the strings suspended atop thin poles nailed to the ground, traversing effortlessly across the stage with the chimes of traditional circus music. What with the crowd that engulfed them from all sides, Holly dared to think it wouldn't be difficult to slip out unnoticed. There was the security Caleb had warned them of; exactly the reason neither he or Zone was present right now. They were to serve as backup when things got messy, which they definitely would get. Covert as the operation was, years of experience with Artemis's plans had rendered Holly a total disbeliever in _covert_ operations.

Artemis, to her left, looked as calm and confident as he always looked, his vampiric skin tone turned a light, pulsating orange from the lights. The dwarf seated on her right hand side didn't seem to have a care in the world either, engrossed as he was in the stick of pink, sticky fluff that his entire face devoured. Two other sticks of cotton candy were clamped in his free hand.

A salesman turned up in their row, moving uncomfortably close to the seated audience's knees in the cramped space, but a lot of people still bought from him despite how he was clearly changing prices depending on who was asking. He eventually reached Artemis, too, and was almost declined before Mulch butted in.

"Doritos, please. Or whatever those are. The chips. Three bags."

Artemis didn't bother sending him an unappreciative glance, and just the exuberant fee into the salesman's hands before collecting his order.

The guy seemed eager for more business, though, and gave Artemis a lopsided grin that meant he wasn't leaving until he had sold more things.

Artemis rolled his eyes and collected two sticks of cotton candy, being the cheapest item on the menu, which finally led the man to happily continue his squeamish journey down the row.

"For me?" Mulch grinned, though not forgetting the three he held. "Sweeeeet."

Artemis seemed to change his mind and handed one stick to Holly, keeping the other for himself although he _really_ didn't look like the type to enjoy such sugary delights.

The dwarf pouted. "Fine. I mean look at you two, eh? I should snap a picture. Really cute."

An exasperated roll of the eyes was the only warning he was given before the elf beside him covertly stomped on his foot.

" _Ouch_ ," winced Mulch.

"I've warned you," she retorted, only for him to hear.

She then pretended that nothing had just happened and indulged herself in the cotton candy, watching the acts unravel on stage.

Her inquisitive look soon turned into a frown.

Now she remembered why she hated circuses, and precisely why they were banned in Haven. It was a disgusting and revolting practice, what they forced captive animals to endure. Rings of fire, balancing on minuscule stools. And as this freakshow started to fling itself fully in an explosive of colourful fireworks that didn't even frighten the tamed beasts, members of the audience rose to their feet in awed applause, everything presenting itself as truly spectacular. But there was the constant crack of the ringmaster's whip and the aggrieved howls of the paint-bombed dogs, and her elfin instinct couldn't stand it. This was the worst of tortures. This was supposedly _entertainment_.

Unable to keep on watching an hour into the show, Holly ripped her eyes away to the side only to find a certain Mud Buy watching her from the corner of his own eye. He only gave her a quiet and understanding nod, but there was nothing either of them could do about it.

"This isn't amusing anymore," commented Mulch dryly from a side. Even the felon dwarf had a greater sense of compassion than the clamouring fairies and humans around them. "I mean, that hornpipe trick was _funny_ , but I wouldn't like to be one of those tigers any day."

And now she saw it again; the striped cats, worn thin, plaintively circling the dancers in the ring of fire.

Massive applause broke from the masses, and the elf couldn't stand the sight or sound of the place anymore. Holding her hat in place and getting briskly to her feet, she ignored Fowl's protest and started to squeeze her way across the row, wanting to leave soon at whatever cost. Her heart thudded in her chest and blood pounded in her ears; she didn't know if it was the pull of Ethos or the disturbing air of cheer around the circus stage that was too prominent and too predominant.

Howls, yelps, hisses.

Eager whipping and the bright, reaching flames.

Cries and cheers.

Happiness.

 _Amusement._

And this wasn't just Mud Men- this was a mixed populace with _fairies_.

At the end of the extending row, she rapidly located an exit point and broke into a run. She would get away from this madness if it took her all her energy.

Turning around into an empty stone corridor, she broke her run but kept up in quick pace to get away from all the noise, if that was even going to be possible. The circus had reached its climax and excitement erupted from the theatre. But if she could _get away_...

The noise faded soon, though. All too soon. She could only hear the echoes of her own footsteps, clad as they were in loud cloth boots.

Cradling the ancient top hat in her hands, Holly leaned against the wall and heaved a sigh of relief.

The ceiling over her head seemed to extend miles. The other wall encircling the corridor was far away. And the passage left for her to traverse, it seemed, turned to a mysterious corner beyond which anything could lay.

 _Like the garden maze_.

Her eyes shot open wide.

Ethos.

Dropping her 1937 top hat in her hurry, the elf made a deliberate turn to head back the way she'd come, but that way was gone. All that remained in its wake was the boundless, coiling passage that trapped her now.

She spun around again, staring at the space before her. Leaving Mulch and Fowl had been a mistake. Now they wouldn't know where to look for her and she wouldn't know how to get back to them. Because she couldn't, even if she wanted to. This was Ethos. This was a prison.

 _Don't give in_.

Wasn't that all she had to do? It had already tricked her once; it shouldn't be allowed to do that again.

"I know where I am," she snapped, as if the prison walls were listening. "I know what you're going to try. Get out of my head."

The walls remained. Glowing, ominous.

" _Go away!_ " she shouted, pounding her fists against them. "Go. Away. Leave. You're not real. None of this is real!"

But panic was starting to crawl underneath her skin. Panic, hopelessness, dead loss. She was very likely wrong about the whole willpower thing. Maybe you just couldn't escape.

 _That's Ethos talking, idiot!_

It was starting to close in on her, all of it. There wasn't even a boundless expanse of corridor to run along. There was no hiding. There was no running away.

Holly dropped to her knees at glared up at the retreating ceiling.

"You're not real!"

Then the ceiling was too close and she was inside a glass box. A translucent yellow tinge consumed its walls. She saw nothing besides, and there was no room left to move.

She pressed her hands against a wall. She pressed them against two of the walls, both within half an arm's reach.

Right now would be a good time to regain that claustrophobia.

Without much else to do, Holly pounded against the walls and kicked the sides of her cage. She screamed, in fury rather than fear, and she elbowed and thrashed against her confines. The impact didn't hurt her and it didn't break the box. All that did happen was the thinning of the little oxygen trapped inside with her, and once her system realized this all it allowed was tiredness. Dread.

"D'Arvit," swore Holly.

On all fours within the restricted space, she slammed her fist hard against the floor. Hard. Harder.

The strength in her arms and wrists were being sapped from her, just like the vanishing oxygen.

"D'Arvit!"

 _Slam._

"You..."

 _Slam_.

"Aren't..."

She hit the floor hard with as much strength as she could muster.

" _D'Arvitting_..."

Both fists now.

" _Real!"_

The glass floor cracked and burst into smithereens that cut at every inch of her body, but she felt herself fall through and land face-down on a different surface.

Snatching a tremendous gulp of air, Holly sprung to her feet, ready now more than ever to fight.

The walls on both sides were stone. The ground was cool, airy, and _stone_ , and the very fancy wide-brimmed hat she had discarded when Ethos had struck laid motionless on the stone.

The amphitheater. _Yes_.

She grabbed her head in her hands and walked on trembling feet back in the direction she'd first come– or whatever direction, she didn't know. All she wanted was to _never_ fall into Ethos again.

 _Trouble and the others...Ethos has them._

 _D'Arvit._

 _"D'ARVIT!"_

Holly stumbled down a single stone step to a slightly lower level in the corridor. She caught the ground before she landed face-first, but she wasn't given enough time to recover.

Shouting. Faint, but familiar. It came from a few blocks away.

Abandoning all fears for herself, Holly briskly walked down the passageway in that direction. She knew it could just be Ethos again, but her instinct told her that she couldn't risk it in the first place.

The risk that it was actually...

Julius.

She froze in her tracks, and all colour left her face.

There he was, alive and yelling, but bound and tied with a huge bloodstain stamped to his forehead. He wasn't in the best of conditions. _They_ had done something to him.

"SERVING KOBOI!" Root yelled. "Right, so what does Her Highness want of me? Where's Holly? Doesn't she have the decency to let me have a team?"

Holly hid herself behind the wall and only listened to what unfolded in the room. There was the Commander, and there were two Mud Men. Large. She didn't stand a chance o taking them both out on her own, and if they raised the alarm it would summon even more burly men.

"She doesn't want you as much as she wants this," she heard one of the men snicker. "But I doubt you even know what it is, and I don't care. Your act will be up soon."

Her ears tingled. _Act?_ That did not sound good.

New plan. She had to get him out of here and fast. The guards they would both deal with.

Root snorted. "Oh, so I'm going to be thrown to the Fronddamn lions now?"

"My dear Commander, how did you guess?"

Holly sprang into action.

The first Mud Man, the one who was talking, had lightening reflexes and dodged the kick she aimed for his jaw, bringing down a heavy fist on her straightened knee. Holly was fast enough to prevent a broken leg, but Root shouted a warning as the second Mud Man grabbed her arms from behind.

Holly found that the first idiot was still giving her a smug look, and added a thick layer of the Mesmer into her voice.

" _Let go,"_ she instructed, in what was barely a whisper.

He tried to fight it and shook it off.

" _Let go!"_

Then he did, much to the confusion of his colleague, and Holly barked her next order.

" _Now get this gorilla off of me!"_

He complied at once, smacking the underside of the other guy's jaw and making him instantly lose consciousness, releasing Holly from his great height in the process. She landed roughly on both feet.

The first Mud Man held tightly in his hand what appeared to be an ornate golden statue, minuscule in size. It struck her at once what it had to be.

" _Hand me the key,"_ she said, looking him directly in the eyes.

"N-No," stammered the human.

" _Now!"_

He gave up completely and dropped the miniature golden statue to the floor.

" _Sleep._ "

And he slumped beside the key, snoring.

Holly grinned in a triumph she hadn't felt for ages. Things were finally starting to go her way. She picked up the key before heading over to Root, who looked both confused and pleased.

"Good work, Major," he remarked. "Glad to know you're alive."

Holly crouched to inspect his bonds. "Likewise, Commander. No magic?"

Root instantly scowled. "My magic just depleted the moment I arrived. Where exactly are we? Why are fairies hanging around Mud Men?"

"Long story," explained Holly simply, using a spark to tear a hole in the rope. "But we need to get out of here before anyone comes by."

Root groaned, looking over her shoulder. "Too late."

•••

 **Haven City.**

Today was one of those days Vinyayà could perfectly appreciate the toil Commander Root underwent on a daily basis; there were the officers, the insubordination, the goblin triads and the rogue fairies and, impending above everything like a heavy metal dumbbell waiting to fall, the press. She could perfectly understand his anger as well. And after this experience, she'd even be able to _relate_ to it.

Several questions were thrown across the hall, packed and brimming with reporters of every corporation and even several ordinary citizens craving a part of the action. The LEP had never witnessed a press conference of this magnitude ever since the day the goblin rebellion ended, and that was really saying something. It didn't help at all that Corporal Kelp, Chairman Cahartez and herself were the only ones at the table to answer the questions either. Vinyayà knew it was a bad idea to bring along Grub, but she would rather not compete with a Councilmember representing the LEP on her own.

Even the minor corporations had pushed to the front, with the winged ones even _hovering_ above the mass of heads to get noticed. A hundred odd cameras and microphones bristled out from the crowd at them, eager to catch and capture every word and moment.

"Wing Commander, what precautions are the LEP taking to avoid damage by future incidents?"

"The Haven Science Society has put forward a theory that these are a lost fairy race like the demons once were. How far can we believe this?"

"Who is behind this? Opal Koboi, Artemis Fowl, or are they both conspiring against us?"

"Chairman, do you suppose the earlier incident with the troll is in some way connected to this conspiracy?"

" _Is_ this a conspiracy to rid Haven of its Council?"

Having spent the past twenty minutes in impatient silence, Vinyayà tapped on her mic to draw attention. All focus in the hall was instantly snapped her way.

She spoke calmly and clearly. "There isn't much we know about these creatures; where they came from, who sent them, their origins–no. But we have strong reason to believe that Commander Root's and Holly Short's disappearances are connected to this, and while the mastermind behind this may or may not be Koboi, it _is_ someone of her caliber."

One of the main broadcasting companies' reporters took note of her pause and hollered his pertinent question. "And what about fairy public enemy number one, Artemis Fowl?"

"We have reason to believe that he is involved somehow, yes," Vinyayà surveyed the crowd discreetly. Beside her, Cahartez stiffened. He had obviously wanted to answer that question his own way. She continued regardless. "But if Koboi is indeed behind this, Fowl may also be one of her targets seeing what he did to assist the LEP during the goblin rebellion."

Cahartez tapped his own mic impatiently. "Fowl _very likely_ is involved; we cannot make an assumption and victimize him. Until proven beyond all reasonable doubt, he is as much of a primary suspect as Koboi is."

Vinyayà held back the urge to snort at that. Of course the Council would _always_ get its say.

"And is the LEP really in a position to go against Fowl or Koboi another time?"

"I have my doubts," Cahartez didn't even acknowledge her glare. "But I would place my trust in them because they have their best people working on it."

"These creatures, Chairman, they're reported to be in possession of the _Mesmer_ –"

"Is this really advanced mind control? The Argon clinic reports over sixty victims from the last attack–"

"In comatose state? Is it true that certain high-ranking LEP operatives are among the affected?"

The questions continued on, its unpleasant flow never ceasing. The cameras flashed blinding lights and the excited panic in the hall just kept on rising.

"Is there anything that is being done about the afflicted fairies, Wing Commander?"

"Are there some who are immune to this _Mesmer_? Is it possible to learn resistance?"

Grub saw his opportunity and happily seized it.

"As a meter of fact, we have just done some tests on a live subject for resistance."

All faces in the hall turned towards him, and the questions started to pour once again.

"What live subject, Corporal?"

"Have any results been gathered?"

"Do we have a cure? An antidote?"

Grub beamed like he was delivering the happiest bit of news in the world. "Of course, the LEP didn't want to give you halfway-results or to waste time in a situation like this one, so we ran quite a daring test on one of our officers, who bravely rendered his consent."

There was a new burst of excitement at that.

"Wasn't the procedure highly fraught with risk? Was the LEP willing to be responsible if anything happened?"

Vinyayà sighed, watching the Corporal answer almost every single question that he managed to catch. It was a good thing, she supposed now, that she had brought him along. It gave her time to clear her mind and think about this mess.

Her communicator buzzed once, fast and ominously in her holster pocket.

She knew _that_ particular signal all too well.

"If it's something Vein can handle–"she started to mutter, but one look at the message on screen told her it wasn't. Oh no. It was most certainly not something Vein, Foaly or even herself could handle. Not even Root had any previous experience to deal with a situation like this.

 ** _Distress call from Atlantis. Dome has cracked. Under attack by unidentifiable species, not human. Please send help and evacuation immediately._**

 ** _12 mins ago._**

Several protests erupted from the reporters when they noticed her push her chair back and get to her feet, but Vinyayà was headed out the hall before anyone could ask her a thing.

* * *

Foaly ran into her with a grave face right before she started barking orders at anyone and everyone who happened to be in Police Plaza's central lobby.

"Distress call from Atlantis," she snapped, breaking into a brisk and fast walk in the direction of the docking bay. As she walked, she continued shouting into her handheld device that would transmit her sound to all nearby speakers for every fairy present to hear. "All personal to rescue crafts, and _load them_ with pressure suits! I don't want an extra _second_ wasted! Atlantis is under attack and we have to act at double speed!"

Nobody dared slack at her tone of absolute authority. Soon the docking bay was crowded with fairies who had heard or received the message, full of shouting and organized preparation that had taken half a million practice drills to perfect. Foaly forgot his own concerns and spared a second to marvel at how quickly the Wing Commander had gotten things into place, but a second was all he dared to take. There were still vital messages that had to reach her before she strapped herself into an evacuation ship and set course for Atlantis.

"Commander," he trotted to keep pace, and still he breathed fitfully. "During the conference we received five calls of creature sightings from five different parts of Haven."

" _Wing Commander_!" corrected the elf, in the process of urgently signaling a pilot out of docking. "Sightings, Foaly. There are far more lives at risk under that Dome, _prioritize!_ "

"But Vein and Newt responded to those calls!"

" _D'Arvit_ , call them back. And _have_ those crates of the resistance pill arrived yet?"

Foaly groaned. "No!"

"D'Arvit!"

The LEP's massive hangar for crafts and shuttles, dimly lit now like it always was, bustled with real rush and activity for the first time in decades as every possible preparation was made for the Atlantis rescue mission. Lights flashed in maddening brightness, then dimmed, and the next few moments were all a distorted, lightning blur to the Wing Commander before she was met with a sight straight out of an Atlantis fairy's nightmare.

* * *

"I'm missing the delightful Major's company," admitted Mulch, chewing through the cotton candy that Artemis had all too willingly given him. "Hey, what's next on the program?"

Artemis snorted in a somehow dignified manner. "Circuses don't come with programs, Mulch. Circus generally _means_ a disorganized lot of madness in one place."

The dwarf elbowed him a little too hard in the ribs. "Come on, don't get like that."

Despite every instinct willing him not to, he went ahead and asked anyway. "What do you mean?"

"Moody and all that, of course," grunted Mulch. "The good Major will come back eventually. It's not like _you're_ the one who upset her this time."

Artemis stole a glance at his watch before settling back into his uncomfortable seat to distastefully watch the acts on the faraway stage. The circus was actually _just_ kicking off; they had a lot of time left, because the stage was actually devoid of most people yet. Holly would hopefully have the sense to return soon, though. Any moment soon could be their opportunity to sneak backstage, when the animal acts were done with and centerstage would be manned with performers instead. It sounded like a long shot, alright, but this wasn't a plan he'd conjured out of nothing. Some digging in and asking around had confirmed that this particular traveling circus, while visiting around once in three to four years, always threw at the audience a spectacle of performing human and fairy artists once the animal bit was done with. It was apparently a breathtaking series of acts that awaited them, but it wasn't like they knew that his interest lied more in acquiring the first key to the city of Logos.

"I do hope she would hurry," he remarked under his breath.

Because the ring had started to clear of its dazzling, decorated beasts, and poles, strings and tightropes were set up at astounding heights. The stage lights blinded a halo around the ring, looking like a very deliberate distraction, and soon the tigers and the seals were gone, and the ringmaster stood menacingly at the center looking ready for another big announcement.

"But before our closing act for the night," boomed the surround speakers linked to his mic. "We will leave you gasping with awe at the talents of our most _daring_ performers. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the world's best escapologists!"

A deafening roar filled the ever-enthusiastic crowd as two wooden chairs on minute wheels were rolled onto the center of the round stage, bearing each an occupant with arms chained wrists and feet firmly bound and sacks over their heads, but the bloodied state of their clothes suggested they were prisoners rather than glamorous circus artists. Much to delight of the audience, two enormous male lions were brought confidently along by the ringmaster's assistants, collared at the neck and led on leashes. They snarled and snapped in all directions unlike the tamed beasts of before. The leashes were loosely and carelessly tied onto thin trapeze poles and the circus staff made a quick exit into a secured backstage area. Despite wanting nothing more than to get their mission over with, Mulch squinted in the bright lighting to get a closer look and Artemis peered though a binoculars they'd brought along with other supplies.

The getup of one escapologist was utterly unfamiliar, but they were both definitely elves. The other, slim but well built and female, wore a pinstriped shirt and stained white pants.

" _Hellfire_ ," swore the human quietly.

"What? You know that lady?" inquired Mulch dubiously, correctly identifying which he was looking at.

Artemis responded by getting to his feet and starting to head out of the crowd. He was already putting the plan into action, the dwarf realized. Sheer madness.

"Where do you think you're going?" he caught up to the Mud Man with considerable ease and grabbed him by the sleeve. "We don't stand a _chance_ of making it out alive without Holly!"

"Mulch," started Artemis with barely restrained impatience, glaring in the direction of the brightly lit stage. "That _is_ Holly."

* * *

 **Edge of the Dome, Atlantis.**

The LEP rescue crafts were greeted with a wholly unwelcome, traumatic state of affairs when they descended into the depths that bore the fairy city of Atlantis. No scanning and no calibration was needed to pinpoint the location of the shielded civilization; no, the massive Dome and all its residents, along with all the chaos ensuing inside, was in full visibility to the LEP and any human submarine that happened to be in the vicinity.

Still most prominent of all were the slowly spreading ominous branches along the spherical walls of the one thing that protected the city and its civilization from the crushing depths of the Atlantic Ocean.

Making up for their heartbeat's hesitation, Vinyayà commandeered her own shuttle into the runway that extended from within the confines of the walls, in turn instructing all evacuation vessels to follow suit. Doubt hit her hard the moment her shuttle's headlights flickered at the masses crammed into the singular research facility, then beyond at the paved streets of barely breathing comatose bodies that spread outwards in thousands. The buildings in the visible spectrum were wrecked, ruined; less than ghosts of what they would have been a mere hour ago. Roofs had caved in, walls had given way and even the steel streetlights were twisted in surrendering angles, and, even though she knew that none of these fairies were dead, the metropolitan area of Atlantis had transformed into a death-scented ghost town that screamed the return of a formidable enemy hell-bent on destruction.

Foaly's voice buzzed in robotic tones over the comm. "Koboi's...freaks have moved onto the Southern precinct. They're moving as a single body and emitting this...high-frequency screech that's cracking the Dome."

Her breath was heady against the glass of the pressure suit she already donned. "Affirmative, Foaly. I'm sending manned battle crafts into the precinct."

"I'll pass the message."

Zipping through into the city, Vinyayà skittered her craft off the ground and led her limited group of shuttles with blasters in the direction of where the danger lay. She noted the civilians inside the building load into evacuation shuttles in hurried, disorganized and scattered paces, panic mounting with every second passed. _Survivors_ , she realized. _They haven't escaped, they've just been ignored because they're immune to it._

But how did Atlantis have the good fortune of that many residents with natural immunity? It would have been a far better yielding task to target more of Haven. Their enemy had made a miscalculation somewhere. That or they were simply doing what Koboi wanted them to do.

Vinyayà gritted her teeth as they arrived in the airspace of the danger zone. _People need to be saved, that's all there is to it._

Koboi's monsters. Freaks, as Foaly had called them. There were a number of civilians fleeing or taking refuge in panic, but a vast majority lay limp across the pavements and on the roofs of devastated buildings with the army of anomalies leaping on their thin, long limbs and howling low in their shriveled throats.

Above the airspace, the Dome cracked a fraction more.

"Team Red, take up position North," she ordered into the comm. "Major Fugu, descend and standby. Fire on three."

An automatic readout appeared as a holograph before her eyes.

Three.

Vinyayà shifted her gears and prepared for descent. Clustered as the enemy was, it wasn't going to prove a difficult shot.

Two.

The Freaks started craning their necks, suddenly aware of their impending doom. The howling grew more pronounced. The Team Leaders winced at the sensation it brought on, but the Dome would not hold for much longer.

One.

Vinyayà strangled her blaster controls in her fists. The Freaks started to languidly break apart.

Zero.

 _"FIRE!"_

And just like that the target scattered. Freaks leapt on top of dilapidated roofs, swung from eaves and scurried into narrow alleyways. A few took to directing their screams up at the crafts and circling whatever civilians left standing, knowing somehow that the LEP shuttles would not open fire when fairy lives were at stake. The first to be blasted were the ones that positioned themselves primely, but picking them off individually was proving a task with ridiculous chances. There were plenty more. And soon enough, appearing from a literal nowhere, _hundreds_ more, and all were taking up the scream in the direction of the battle crafts.

The explosions dropped on the ground below were far and few because of the centrally hustled group of fairies who could do nothing about their predicament. But the fight was already drawing to a close, because the Freaks had a much more powerful weapon that they weren't afraid to use. Vinyayà first spotted Major Vein slump in his seat at the front of his shuttle, breathing but lifeless like the rest of who turned out to be victims; then a smaller weapon-shuttle in his command crashed to the ground and exploded in luminous ambers as its pilot lost all coherent senses. Major Fugu went next. His shuttle did not crash, but he powered down and set it to hover right before he succumbed to the shrill luring of the shriveled anomalies.

Vinyayà hit her comm in a desperation she had never before felt during her tenure with the LEP.

"Urging all pilots to set crafts on hover. I repeat, set crafts on hover."

Two more shuttles fell simultaneously, bursting into flames dangerously close to the captive group of fairies. Vinyayà could only watch it all in gut-wrenching horror. They had assumed they would be _safe_ in the interiors of the double, triple reinforced shuttles. Their error had been a contingently fatal one.

All her command units were down. Every one of the Team Leaders she could spot, trapped now like Foaly had previously been.

Everything had suddenly gone deathly quiet. Even the shrieks of the monsters were gone now, and they appeared to be heading in a new direction. But to what? Atlantis was already wrecked; any fairies remaining were those who could not be affected, and by her readings the rest of the city was done with evacuation. The Freaks had no one left to attack. Couldn't they tell?

Vinyayà thumbed her comm this time instead of a hard slam against the vital button; her tones were tinged with defeat and painful loss when she spoke into it.

"This is Silver Team Leader. Unaffected pilots, please respond."

There were nothing in the second that followed. In the several seconds that followed.

"Anyone left conscious, please respond."

The garrison of shuttles in the airspace before her only hovered on low power in reply.

Despondent for the first time in her career, Vinyayà followed the sickly anomalies with her eyes. The small cluster of civilians remained where they were, on edge and not believing the danger to be gone.

"Foaly, there are about thirty survivors here. Send a rescue ship."

Static.

"And the affected, Wing Commander?"

Vinyayà didn't rip her eyes from the twisted forms of the creatures who now retreated into the furthest reaches of the city, that appeared to be entirely devoid of life.

"Around two hundred. And count every pilot in the garrison."

Static, but this was because the centaur had released the communication button on his end as the realization dawned on him.

"The Freaks are headed further North, the commercial district. Already evacuated?"

Foaly brought himself back. "Yes. We set out to that district even before you took flight. Hold on a moment, though."

The guilt and failure wrenching her insides were still as insistent as ever, but Vinyayà found some consolation in the fact that the Dome was no longer cracking, even though it couldn't be that way forever.

But when Foaly's voice sounded again, it was urgent. "They're not done with the evacuation. There are...I'm guessing about a thousand civilians left."

Her senses spiked. She sat ramrod straight in her pilot's seat and gripped at the controls. "And the Freaks are headed their way?"

"Yes," confirmed Foaly gravely. "I'm afraid we'll have to order takeoff."

"No," snapped Vinyayà, and energy burned in her eyes again. She glared through the plexiglass of her pressure suit at the slow-paced tyrants. Moving in one body again. They might scatter, but she was going to make the best of her one sure shot.

Stepping hard on the acceleration key, Vinyayà's craft shot out of the mass of hovering shuttles, its engine buzzing at first but soon shutting into silence. The singular body of creatures before her did not look up or show any signs of alertness, but still she waited for the chance. That chance came when the whole body had to pass the narrow space between two wrecked towers.

Vinyayà worked fast. Unlatching the emergency escape shaft underneath the seat, she held onto the floor and lowered herself down into open air outside of the shuttle. She hadn't intended to drop down that far, but the explosive in her hand had been swept away with the windspeed and she'd caught it between her feet only because of the dangerous amount of herself that hung outside of the shuttle now. Had she been flying much lower, her feet would've grazed the heads of a few creatures. But even her dangling was careful and calculated. Bracing herself for swift action, the elf swung her feet that bore the explosive into the clustered bunch of Freaks just as they squeezed in between the two towers; and she hauled her entire body back into the shuttle and sealed the hatch not a moment too soon. The resulting explosion was tremendous and sent her craft hurtling back in he direction it had come, but the improved reinforcement protected her. The Freaks didn't get that lucky. They were thrown back in pieces of limbs and contorted figures, in smithereens or damaged beyond timely recovery. A gnarled arm hit and stained her windscreen in dark blood and a featureless face flew past her right window with no more than a head and neck. The towers collapsed and trapped even more detached body parts. There remained only a few whose resolve to venture was put behind a resolve to flee.

Vinyayà glanced in the direction of the civilians. They had long since retreated to a safe distance.

She hit the comms button again, but the command that issued from her lips didn't sound nearly as dejected and desolate as before.

"Tell them to evacuate _all_ civilians, get backup sent for the affected number. We've only just landed our first blow, Foaly."

* * *

 **Author's Note; Oh, how I** ** _love_** **writing Vinyayà! Please do give me your opinions on this chapter. And how about the cliffhangers? ;)**

 **More reviews = faster updates! Thank you for reading!**

 **yours in Foulness,**

 **Shaadia.**


	9. Chapter 9: Unto Dust

**Author's Note; Before we begin on this latest episode, my lovelies, I must bring to your attention a few very important details.**

 **2017, this new year, is going to be an extremely busy one for me. On top of writing my own novel and the laborious task of promoting it, I'm going to be facing the O/L exams which are an extremely thing vital for a child in Sri Lanka. Accompanying the exam is, of course, mock exams, seminars, paper classes, the whole lot, plus two years' worth of syllabus in nine subjects. I feel I need to tell you this primarily so that you would understand how difficult it's going to be for me to keep writing and updating my fanfics. But I've grown to love this fic quite a lot, and I really enjoy it here at FF . Net, so I will in NO WAY be abandoning Key to Ethos or The Cross Species Battle. I will write and update whenever I can and your support, as always, will be invaluable :)**

 **On a happier note, review replies!**

 **Berrybanana05 ; THANK YOU! Long reviews are my favourite, and that was some pretty rad encouragement there :) I am so glad you enjoyed the chapter that much. I hope you enjoy this chapter even more!**

 **Gespenter; Lol, I'm not getting any mercy am I? ;)**

 **NoggenPodder; Thank you, and I'll try!:D**

 **Elisarah ; As always, your comments are hilarious XD Granted, we might have some rather...scandalous thoughts about Arty in common here... Once again, grateful that you're enjoying things on Vinyayà's end as well.**

 **A big thank you going out to readers, followers and people who favourited as well :)**

 **DISCLAIMER: IDONTOWNARTEMISFOUL*cough*FOWL**

 **\- Shaadia.**

—•:;*"~€/°—

CHAPTER NINE: UNTO DUST

Holly couldn't feel the rest of her senses. She couldn't feel her arms or her hands, and her spine and torso ached numbly. She knew there was pain, but she didn't feel a bit of it. The problem was that it wouldn't stay that way for long.

The one sense she retained, however, was the olfactory; and _Frond_ , did she wish that wasn't the case.

The damp fibers of some kind of sack pressed insistiently against the tip of her nose, and the smell was sour, rancid, like the breath of a tunnel dwarf after a hearty meal of old milk, recyclings and fish. It was the only sense hinting at consciousness, perhaps, and for that she felt she should be grateful, but soon she was going to throw up within the confines of the head-bag and regain her sense of taste in the most _unwelcome_ way.

She felt movement. She wasn't moving any of her numb limbs, but she felt her entire self being propelled forward, and it was only a short distance before sound struck her hard and her sense of hearing came hurtling back to her like a long-lost pet dog.

There was cheering, and there was applause, and there was a lot of hooting, everything loud but nothing truly discernible. Through the dark, putrid fibers of the sack she could suddenly see light, but it was ages before she recovered the sense to figure out where she was.

 _This sounds like a D'Arvitting circus._

The disgusting sack was yanked from her head, and she instantly looked down and gagged. There came loud and violent hacking from a source beside her. Holly instinctively spun that way.

Commander Root sat tied to a heavy chair on wheels, arms, hands and feet tightly bound by metal clasps fixed to chains. He snapped his neck to meet her eyes. Holly thought that Root looked ready for murder, but then that was how he always looked.

Brightness flashed in her face. Holly squinted through the harsh lighting to get a good look at their surroundings, and whatever anger or confusion she'd held before quickly dissipated into sheer desperation.

 _This really_ is _the circus._

But there was something else, too, something that was even worse news. Growling low in their throats not more than ten feet away from them were two large cats; she could make out a mane of gold and the muscles that moved with the beasts' thin, scraggedly limbs. Whether the growling was coming from their throats or their stomachs she wasn't sure now.

There was something keeping them in place for sure. Holly anxiously averted her eyes from the cats, beyond to the cloth leashes that kept them at bay. She could already see one of them coming apart. A section of cloth had been worn thin with strain.

"Ladies and gentlemen," cackled the ringmaster, unbidden in his glee. "Let the act begin!"

* * *

Root scrambled with his bound hands, strained as they were behind the back of the chair and dead as they were from the tight rope cutting off blood flow. The big cats paced menacingly as silhouttes in the blinding stage lights which did nothing to improve his composure. Beside him, Holly also struggled in vain with her wrists. She pulled herself forward with vigour and thrashed in her seat to break free, but the rope was tight and the chain held firm.

"Calm, Major, that isn't working!" Root avoided looking at their fate and looked at his officer instead. Holly immediately ceased in her struggles. She was paying attention.

"Use your magic."

Holly almost rolled her eyes. Of course. Panic shouldn't get her like this. She was an experienced field officer, for Frond's sake. She had faced down _troll_ s on her own before; what was a lion to that?

A hot blue spark generated at her fingertips and touched the rope that held her wrists securely bound. It took only thirty seconds. The rope cut in half, and she wriggled her hands from their confines.

The crowd was paying keen attention now. They were, after all, _supposed to_ escape.

Holly struggled back in her chair to get the wheels moving back, away from the snapping jaws of the lions and closer to the Commander. It took another thirty seconds to free his hands, but now the beasts were starting to make their own progress. _Trained,_ Holly realized. They had just started gnawing off the weakening fibers of each other's leashes.

"What the actual..." began Root, but he didn't have time to finish the thought because as soon as Holly's magic snapped through his rope, the beast before him pounced forward with its jaws wide open in vicious hunger. He had little or no time to react, but somehow instinct saved his life and his newly freed fists rushed over his head and smashed the brute on its snout. The lion gave a pained howl and reared on its hind legs, snarling, and Root felt more afraid now than satisfied.

It pounced again and this time there was nothing he could do. Holly's chair had been knocked over with the elf in it, still strapped by the waist and legs, and her arms were engaged in a determined struggle with the lion that held her down. She couldn't see him; she was too focused on keeping the brute's jaws clamped shut. The crows was mostly on its feet and hooting. Some calling for blood, some encouraging their escape.

Root braced himself but the impact never came. He opened his eyes and couldn't believe them. The lion that had been on the verge of leaping onto him now struggled against some invisible force in mid air, black electricity cackling around its mane.

He blinked. He didn't know for the love of Frond what was happening.

He heard another growl, a softer, tamer one that couldn't have emanated from the throat of a big cat, and the beast snapping over Holly's form started to step back in puzzlement. She was behind the new sound, he realized. She was using the gift of tongues to urge it to back off.

But then Holly looked up and the first lion dropped to the ground with a resounding thud. A collective gasp rose from the audience. The circus lights shone brighter in their faces as the animal slowly brought itself to its feet again.

In the meantime Holly's brute shook out of its daze and snarled right back at the elf, advancing menacingly across the stage. Holly snapped her head back in the direction of something Root still didn't quite comprehend. That was a tall, lean figure in a glossy purple suit around whom black electricity cackled dangerously.

Holly seemed to be gaping. Her eyes screamed incredulity and disbelief, but carried maybe just a spark of admiration.

In all the commotion Root hadn't noticed his lion hurl itself right at him and collapse the chair he was chained to. The back of the chair hit the canvas stage floor and he could no longer make sense of his surroundings. Just the mighty weight on his chest and the feeling of sharp talons on the fabric of his shirt and a pitch-black shape of impending doom silhoutted in the lights.

He felt oddly calm.

 _So this is how it all ends. A bloody circus. Well, at least_ somebody _enjoyed my death._

But a split second later there was no constricting weight on his body. There were sparks- laughing, dancing black sparks - in place of the lion. Root groamed at the feeling of blood oozing from the claw-marks on his chest, and decided soon that he would pass out.

The crowd was cheering even louder now and the heart of the town, the circus, was beating faster with astounding rapidity.

Mulch slipped a single rigid hair into the locks on her chains and Holly struggled free of them. She heaved her fatigued figure forward and felt blood rush into her veins for the first time since her capture. Her senses were alert once more and quick to assess her surroundings.

Artemis, paler than normal in the stage lights but standing out in sharp contrast on account of the purple suit, holding off the cats with a brilliant display of black magic; he had used it on them before, she recalled, eyes widening. _They've learnt to stay away from it._

Then, a stab of admiration.

 _He'd better not get us all killed in the end, though._

Her old mentor and Commander appearing unconscious in his restraints, but relatively safe. Mulch hurriedly headed over to his chair and started picking the locks on his chains as well.

"Would you look at this," the dwarf couldn't resist commenting. "A convict like me helping the LEP out of handcuffs. I'd better get amnesty for the irony."

Holly ignored him and surged forward to stand beside the Mud Boy, who appeared to be draining himself now and on his last legs of strength. He screamed something over the hot cackling of energy. She realized the instruction was partially hers.

 _Tell Mulch to tunnel!_

"Mulch!" The dwarf dragged the unconscious Commander over to her, grunting all the way.

"I know, I know," he muttered, before rolling the other elf over the rim of the stage.

"D'Arvit!" exclaimed Holly, bolting after her Commander. She made a calculated jump off the rim and was soon joined by the dwarf. She immediately understood why. There was good, solid earth here, right before the first ring of spectators started. They were all going wild with excitement now and she figured it wouldn't be long before the crowd started invading the stage, and then all would be lost in an unbreathable mass of bodies.

Mulch dived into the ground and started digging his tunnel with an urgency she had never before seen come from him.

Above them Artemis was starting to flail. His sparks were flickering and dying, and the beasts were starting to overcome their intimidation. The Mud Boy had saved them and survived thus far on sheer guts and a magic he didn't have full control over–and he was starting to run out of one of the two.

"How much longer?!" she looked over her shoulder and hollered.

"A minute!" Mulch yelled back from inside the burrow, unceasing in his furious digging. But Artemis didn't have a minute. He was going to succumb to the exertion in less than that amount of time.

Curling her fingers into fists, Holly leapt and mounted the stage, only barely making it, at the very instant Fowl's legs buckled beneath him and crumpled into a kneel. Both lions noticed. They reared back for a spring, teeth clamped in a snarl.

She rushed forward and grabbed the human by his wrist, collecting his limp form in her arms just as the beasts pounced. They rolled off the side of the stage and landed on the wet earth with a thump. Artemis groaned from under her, but she didn't have the time or the patience to register it. The lions joined them on the ground. The crowd collectively leapt back in fright and alarm, wondering if this was an act gone wrong. The circus crew was starting to wonder the same thing, it seemed, running onto the scene with their animal trainers, whips and leashes. Holly didn't have time to consider any of this. Collecting Artemis in the crook of one arm and Root in the other, she jumped into the new tunnel mouth right before Mulch collapsed it, and soon she found herself in immersive, pitch darkness and her own ragged breath while the cries from above, and a new burst of impressed applause at their _escape_ , did not die down.

* * *

 **Edge of the Dome, Atlantis.**

Foaly was the first and only person Vinyayà uttered a word to after her ordeal with the _Freaks_.

"I want every remaining officer on that pill, Foaly," was all she said before pulling out one of the chairs in the vastly empty restaurant and slumping dejectedly in it, face in her hands. She massaged her temples and rubbed her brow, but the headache didn't seem like it would go away that easily. This wasn't a headche brought on by the high-frequency noises, she knew. No, this had more to do with the guilt.

 _I thought the shuttles would protect us._

 _Stupid. Stupid!_

Her gaze flickered wearily to the centaur who stood fidgeting before her, awaiting further instructions.

 _And now they're all in that...that hellhole Foaly got out of. Except they won't be getting out of it!_

 _Stupid!_

"That's all," she told him, almost under her breath. "Get everyone on the...resistance pill. It's all we can do for now."

Foaly looked like he was about to turn around and leave, but he suddenly thought different of it.

"You know, Wing Commander...that was an impressive feat you pulled back there. You saved a lot of people."

"And my negligence cost a lot of people their lives," she rebuked, but their was no malice in her tones. Just bitter loss and guilt. "We _have_ to get them back, Foaly, but how can we do that if we don't even know where to start?"

The centaur sighed. "I've outsmarted Koboi before. I can do it again. And now we're more familiar with the enemy, right? We know that explosions can kill them. It'll save us a load of trouble in the future."

She didn't respond to this, only looked towards the high glass ceiling of the restaurant and the dark blue waters of the Atlantic depth where, surrounding the Dome, teams of LEP technicians and several repair crews were hurriedly doing their part in restoring the great sphere's shields. They were until such time completely exposed and vulnerable to the human eye and, indeed, the human machine, if it managed to get past whatever loops Foaly had installed into it.

The second largest fairy city now no longer teemed with life and activity. Koboi's creatures had turned it into a scarce, hollow ghost town.

 _This wouldn't have happened on Root's watch_.

But was she tripping her own guilt even further? Root was an excellent leader, perhaps the best, but not even he could've foreseen this or prevented it.

 _But the pilots would've been spared._

Would they really have been, with Root's way of thinking? Would he have thought twice about assaulting the creatures with nothing but the reinforced walls of a shuttle to protect them? Yes. He'd have wrung Foaly's neck until the resistance pill arrived in full crates at double speed and forced it down every officer's throat before the risk-fraught rescue mission. He would have been perceptive and not cracked under pressure. But she had started falling apart the moment she read the distress message, even if she'd hid it well.

 _What would the LEP do without you?_ She thought absently of her comrade and friend. _Frond, Julius, what would I do without you?_

There was some kind of commotion going on with the technicians, she noted dully. Maybe the butterflies, as Foaly called them, had spotted an exotic fish or something. She really couldn't combat the feeling of utter defeat that was starting to cloud her mind despite the earlier victory against the Freaks that had given her momentary strength hope.

There was tapping now, on the dome above, as a number of technicians scrambled about themselves to get a closer look at the new object of interest.

Vinyayà only paid it a sliver of attention. She couldn't care less what supposedly extinct marine life swum resurrected around the thrashed fairy civilization. She flicked on her communicator ready to call the technicians' central line and blast them for making less use of precious time, but a nervous voice answered before she had the chance to shout.

"C-Commander...there's something out here that you really, really need to see."

She cut the line and looked upwards, eyebrows knitted in a sudden frown, sullen expression now wiped away. It didn't sound like good news. The way their luck was going, it most certainly wasn't.

She was starting to see it now; black, a lurid gap of darkness out of place in the black-blue waters. It simply loomed in the distance, circular, not wide enough to notice at first glance but deep, ominous and beckoning. It was an abyss into another world, some kind of portal into some dark unknown.

 _Portal?_ She scoffed. "That's ridiculous," she said out loud, but she did not for a moment believe it.

She, and the technical crew from their places much closer to it, stared on for a second longer.

"Foaly," she started into her communicator. "Are you looking at this?"

"Roger that, Commander," came Foaly's glum reply. "I ran some scans and...well, my scans aren't detecting it but my eyes definitely are. This isn't something my scanners were designed to pick. I'd reckon it's some kind of interdimensional doorway–"

"Plain language, centaur," snapped the elf. "I don't want that archaic nonsense."

"A portal. I'm willing to bet all my gold coins on that being what Opal's monsters are coming out of."

She felt her jaw slacken. It was so close by, so near, the source of all this grief. The patch of black suddenly looked downright threatening rather than intriguing, but it still beckoned, called, insisting that they check it out.

"We need to seal it off," she said. "Is there any way we can do that?"

"No," came the centaur's carefully considered reply. "There's no way we can close it and we shouldn't be doing that anyway. Going in there might sound perfectly suicidal, Commander, but it will for certain give us something more about our enemies; their origin, maybe even a clue as to Koboi's _location_."

"No one will do it. Our best people are down."

Foaly could be heard taking a deep breath. "In all due respect, Commander, we have nothing to lose. This might prove entirely stupid, but if this is a chance and we miss it, we're back at square one. We can set up a team of fairies on the resistance pill, fully equipped; and we'll leave them a line back here. That way they can return if something happens to go wro–"

"On the contrary," Vinyayà cut him off. "I think this is a solo mission."

"No one is qualified–or _willing_ enough–"

"I am perfectly qualified and willing," the elf stared across the glass ceiling through the cracked dome walls. Was she really going to do it? _Yes_ , she steeled herself. If the mission, fraught as it was with unknown risks, was going to give them something, anything against Koboi's Freaks, she owed it to all the officer and civilian victims to undertake it.

Foaly sensed the cutting edge in her tone and decided it was best not to argue. "I'll get everything ready."

"One more thing, Foaly."

"Yeah?" The centaur was prepared to hear any number of things that would add to the suicide rate of the operation.

Vinyayà sounded genuinely annoyed. "Don't call me Commander."

* * *

"There could be frequencies on the other end jamming your shuttle's communication equipment and quite possibly something or the other to interfere with the tracking that allows us to monitor where you are, so once you go in through there you're all alone," Foaly's voice, machine-like, explained over the dashboard speakers.

"Except for the piton cord connected to the mothership."

"Except for that; but if you lose communication, you won't have any way of telling us to reel you in. You'll have to turn around and follow the path of the cord back to the portal."

"And if the... _portal_ closes?"

"If it starts to close _we'll_ reel you in. Remember, the maximum length of the piton is about two kilometers. Any more than that and it'll snap."

Vinyayà focused once more on the luring black abyss that loomed a mere meter away from the nose of her smaller reinforced action shuttle. The craft was small, meant for a maximum of two passengers, but lightweight, compact and very fast. Behind her was the wreck of Atlantis and an LEP underwater mothership aboard which Foaly and his technical crew did their work; on one end, overseeing the reconstruction of the dome and on the other, overseeing her risky stunt into the interdimensional doorway, as Foaly liked to call it. There had been a lot of protest at her decision to make the jump, but not a lot of authority to question it. Considering that she was the one of the only senior officers left capable of acting commander, she should be seeking the Council's permission for the mission. But the Council would take hours and come up with a negative anyway.

"You're to run only on the electric motor," Foaly sparked again over the speakers. "Ready when you are."

Vinyayà turned off autopilot, flicked on the electric engine and gripped the steering joystick because her life depended on it. "Ready."

A little bit of static, then; "Good luck, Wing Commander."

The rev of the engines were absent and deathly silence attacked her senses as she hit the acceleration and sped into the dangerous unknown that was, to the casual observer, that one area you should not try checking out.

For the first couple of seconds it was just too dark even within the interior of the shuttle to see anything. Then she was back in sea, a bright blue, crystal clear sea that was most definitely closer to the surface and sunlight than Atlantis.

She looked aside through the 180 degree window before her and couldn't help but release a breath she hadn't realized she was holding when the portal still loomed behind her and the piton cord vanished into its depths.

She cast her gaze upwards. There was sunlight somewhere, and surface. Which meant her answer was probably less than the piton cord's entire reach away. She tried the dashboard communicator; as expected, it only gave back waves of broken static. She was more or less on her own now.

Once again taking on that steely determination that had served her so well in the past, Vinyayà opened the throttles and pointed the shuttle's nose upwards.

* * *

"You wait here," Mulch had said half an hour ago. "I'll finish the tunnel so you can crawl through later. Don't want to be lagging right behind a tunneling dwarf's rear end now, do we?"

"Where will you...er, deposit the waste?" Holly had asked, frightened more at the prospect of being covered in dwarf recyclings than she had been at being devoured by a starved lion.

"I have my ways," Mulch had said, a twinkle in his eyes.

So now she sat with an unconscious elf and human, safe from the madness above the ground but too close to it for comfort, in the small tunnel sufficiently lit by two of their torches. She felt Artemis stir in his uncomfortable crouch beside her, and edged away as much as was possible to give the taller human some space.

"Uuuuhhh," he mumbled something unintelligible. "Wha' is...thi' feeling..."

"Just exertion," said Holly. "You used a lot of magic back there to save us."

"...'olly?"

The elf awkwardly patted his trouser leg. The once glossy purple suit looked ruined for good. "It's me. Thank you, by the way."

Artemis made the tiring effort to nod, then looked above her shoulder to where Root was just begging to stir awake. "You're...most welcome." Then he sat up a little straighter and formed a sentence that was surprisingly long and coherent. "But I fear I cannot use that trick again, whether it's going to be lions or Freaks. It's simply...too exerting."

"Black magic has its side effects, Mud Boy," Holly shrugged. "But I'm not going to pretend I'm not grateful this time."

"The only problem is," Artemis craned his neck uneasily. He wasn't a claustrophobic person in usual circumstances, but this was a tunnel meant for three-footers and an unstable one at that. "We haven't got the Key. And if I'm right in assuming that it was Opal's people and not the circus folk who captured you for the show, they're one leap step ahead of us at the moment."

For some odd reason, Holly smiled. The human found himself absently thinking that the elf should really smile more often, but this was a singular thought he mentally kicked himself for a second later.

"Wrong there," she reached into her trouser pocket and produced a minuscule golden figure, a sprite with his wings crossed in front of his chest. "I learnt a thing or two from Mulch's kleptomania."

Artemis got over the initial surprise, and grinned. "You picked their pockets? How very original, Major."

"But we're one leap step ahead of Opal," Holly tossed the key and caught it, before carefully packing it inside a jaded purse–aka utility kit–she had brought along for the mission.

"Holly?" grunted Root, now having completely regained consciousness. "Would you mind explaining what in the living daylights is going on?"

"It's a long story, Commander," said Holly apologetically. "But once we get out of here, I'll be sure to fill you in on everything."

"And Fowl?"

"Part of the story," said Artemis brazenly. "And I have recovered my memories. I am an ally, Commander, whether you would like to believe it or not."

Root snorted. "Oh I believe it alright. I spoke to Koboi myself. I believe she has something special in store for us."

Holly felt her blood run cold at the mention of their common enemy. "Is that how you got to be here?"

The older elf nodded. "We followed a signal to the market district and I ended up trapped behind steel walls. She was on video chat and said a few of the usual _conquer Haven_ stuff before she pushed a button and...here I am. Some of Koboi's people were undercover as part of that traveling circus and I found myself with them. The plan was to use me as distraction if and when you turned up– their objective, I had no clue. Still don't."

Holly's reply to that was interrupted at the tip of her tongue when a loud clanking noise echoed down the length of the tunnel. "That's the signal," she said.

Root looked around himself in alarm. "Signal? What? Who?"

Holly shot her Commander a sympathetic grin. "Mulch Diggums."

It took them at least seventy laborious minutes to crawl the length of the tunnel on their elbows, Holly in the lead, Root behind and Artemis, being the tallest, at the very tail of the line. It ended in an arduous twist upwards towards the mouth of the tunnel, where they would finally meet the surface world, but this particular segment was by the far the most difficult to navigate. Mulch ended up having to pull both elves out from the other side, but he didn't have the strength to assist the young human, so Artemis had to rely on only his height and knowledge of friction to ensure he wasn't left stuck in the tunnel forever.

"Hurry up," said Mulch the moment he had cleared the surface and felt the welcoming open space around him. "Let's get back to the hut before Opal's people come after us."

Once in, the door shut behind them, Artemis didn't switch on more than one light after realizing that indeed the whole town was empty, every soul having had flocked to the circus arena, and as such it would be no difficult task for Opal to locate them. He gave Caleb a call to inform him briefly that they were in possession of the key and that they should get going soon, before exhaustedly slumping on the edge of the bed and watching as Holly explained to Root the basic goings-on and what exactly their mission was.

"Fowl.. _black magic?!_ "

"It's what saved us from the lions," Holly sighed. "Spare him this once, Commander. It came to good use."

Root was still glaring daggers at him, but Artemis remained gloriously unperturbed, only contributing to the elf's intense anger. "Fine. But it's still illegal and he's still _Fowl_. I wouldn't trust him more than is strictly necessary."

"That's not fair," protested Holly, in spite of knowing for certain that he wasn't wrong. "Artemis saved our lives. We would be kitty litter now if he hadn't stepped in."

"It's _Artemis_ now, is it?"

"Seriously, Julius," Mulch butted in. "He's as credible as I am for your rescue. You're welcome, by the way."

Root jabbed a rigid finger at the dwarf. "I'm grateful this once, convict, but don't push it! I'm not releasing you on any charges after this is over."

"Holly promised she wouldn't arrest me."

" _Holly_ isn't in a position to promise that when I'm around!"

"Well you _weren't_ around before to witness my selfless, daring feats!"

"Major," Root snapped to look at the other elf. "Is this true?"

"Yes..." Despite herself, Holly stifled a chuckle. "Yes it is, Commander. He has proven to be quite an asset."

Root's jaw dropped. "You didn't just drop eighty-six burglary charges!"

"Eighty six?" exclaimed Mulch. "That's _all_ it's been?"

"And him," Root jabbed another finger at Artemis. "He's not supposed to have black magic, or any magic at all. The Council will want a tribunal for this."

"I say we just don't tell the Council," Mulch clapped his hands together. "There. Problem solved."

"He's right, Julius," said Holly. "Besides, Fowl's a Mud Man. We can't exactly keep him locked up in a cell."

"Don't call me Julius!" shouted Root almost on reflex.

"This is all too much of noise," hissed Artemis. "At this rate, we're _asking_ to get detected by Opal's people."

The three fairies looked at him unappreciatively.

"Shut up," they said, at the same time.

* * *

Her shuttle-pod surfaced, dangling the piton cord behind it, and Vinyayà surveyed the landscape before her. Her shield was down, so she couldn't risk having the shuttle in full view of the island's beach for much longer; she opted instead to line the insides of the craft with cam-foil. It was one of the precautions they'd taken in the event of the shields failing. That and a small, compact shuttle with fully transparent walls, so if you did indeed line the insides with camoflauge material, the whole thing would be rendered invisible. The piton attached to the rear crash bar she could do nothing about.

Buzzing open the windscreen latch, Vinyayà emerged from the shuttle in what was a prototype camoflauge suit that operated on a battery, which meant whatever frequencies meddling with the shuttle's communications and shielding capability couldn't meddle with the suit as well. She surveyed the scene from behind her visor. This had _not_ been what she was expecting.

The beach was black volcanic ash and starkly contrasted the light blue waters that almost glittered in the sunlight. The island was a medium-sized one, obviously inhabited given the noise that rose from within it and the couple of colourful boats stationed in the black sand...was this really where the Freaks were coming from? It seemed highly unlikely, but as Foaly had said, it was well worth checking out.

 _Or Opal happens to be here._

She slipped a Neutrino into the holster on her hip and, turning the shuttle's engines off, cautiously waded her way through the shallow blue waters and towards the mysterious island, where she was sooner or later to encounter some form of horrible danger.

* * *

"And next on the list is..." Caleb waited for the tension to build. It didn't. His audience had had enough of tension to go about already. "Fine then, I'll save it for later. We just need to get out of this stupid desert first."

They had slipped out of Gilemo just as the crowds started coming home, mingling in with the mass of civilians so as not to get noticed by anyone looking for them. It was once again heated desert as far as the eye could see, the giant sand dunes and the town, the spot of life, long behind them and even their footprints long behind them. The desert was a confusing expanse of barren land where every direction looked the same save for the one on top, from where the sun mercilessly battered down on them like it had a personal problem with someone in their group. Caleb had tried the whole journey to keep everyone's spirits up, but in the end his efforts were futile and even his uplifting trot had turned into a draglike walk.

Root walked somewhere in the front behind Zone, being determined to be of some help at least in pinpointing the directions, but Caleb lagged behind with Mulch, who was completely determined to _not_ be of any help and complained silently every step of the way. Holly followed, keeping pace with the human genius in order to ensure that he didn't pass out on the way, carrying the large rucksack of their rations that had originally been assigned to him.

"Why..." panted Fowl, only barely trying to uphold his dignity. "Didn't Caleb's town have any _vehicles?_ Remind me to write them a donation cheque when we get back."

"We _do_ have vehicles!" came Caleb's adamant reply. "It's just...the owners weren't willing to give them to our cause."

"Really?" asked Holly indignantly.

"Yeah. Two vehicles. This old lady...very stubborn, she is. Only car in the town."

"And the other vehicle?" asked Artemis, wondering if he wanted to know.

"Ox-cart, duh. Hardly practical for this kind of journey. The poor animal would probably be the first to give up."

"I'm really glad now that we set off on foot," muttered Holly before, on reflex, she caught the human walking beside her who had just been about to collapse. "Oh, grow a spine, Fowl! I thought you said you were more fit than six years ago!"

"I _am,_ " Artemis glared, but still steadied himself to use her as a kind of crutch. "But there are multiple factors here; the distance, the lack of water, the sun..."

"I'm only letting you do this because of the lion-thing," the elf scowled. "The next town we settle in, buy yourself an electric wheelchair or something."

"That sounds very promising," said Artemis sarcastically. "Oh, I think I will."

The journey continued for hours on end, hours that took ages to finally stretch into a night, when the promise of rest and some cool air became more than a distant longing. They pitched up the three tents, Root deciding without a heartbeat's waste that he'd rather share with Holly and Fowl than the dwarf, and so most part of the night was well spent. The other part of it was when Root discovered Fowl's annoying habit of waking up at odd hours, switching on a torchlight for no apparent reason at all, switching it back off and easily going back to sleep.

And it was after another twelve hours of trekking the boiling world around them and feeling every relevant body fluid evaporate like smoke into the hot air that Caleb finally made an announcement that didn't fall on deaf ears.

"Just an hour to the port!"

"Port?" wondered Root.

The boy pointed excitedly in one of the many directions that looked exactly the same. "Where we'll leave this stupid place behind and set off on a boat to Harpsichord island."

" _Island?_ "

"The next key, unless Opal's beaten us to it. Liven up, everyone! I've heard that where we're going the beaches are to _die_ _for_."

* * *

 **Author's Note; And that concludes another episode! This wasn't as long as any of the previous ones, true, but a lot of important things had to happen. Also, bickering! We can't have Root and Mulch in the same picture without** ** _bickering_** **. Anyway, the next one is** ** _lengthy_** **, and as a thank you for bearing with my infrequent updates, will have the slightest touch of A/H and some subtle R/V as well.**

 **Next up; Freaks, caverns and the horrifying side of a beautiful island as we hit yet another climax and dangle over terrible heights.**

 **Reviews are love :)!**


	10. Chapter 10: The Cliffhanger

**Author's Note; So I have very good news and very bad news. The very bad news is that my updates aren't going to get any less infrequent. Keep a lookout for Sri Lankan public holidays; the next Poya day is when I'll get to sit down and write the next chapter. The very GOOD news, however, is that I've laid out plans for this fic to have 24 chapters at the end of it all and I just invented some CRAZY incidents for future chapters! Betcha** ** _no one_** **will see some of them coming ;)**

 **And** **importantly;** **Has every one of you read all the books? I said in the first chapter that this fic will contain no spoilers, but since then I've completely changed the plot and even though this fic takes place after the Eternity Code it will have** ** _several SIGNIFICANT spoilers_** **for the rest of the books in future updates. Please let me know!**

 ** _Warning_** **; this chapter contains one particularly dark subject matter, but I haven't depicted it with as much gory as it actually bears. I fear the rating would have to go up if I did that. But the kind of content in this chapter is pretty much why this fic is rated T; I know that the horror genre has been at a medium level thus far, but this is a different kind of horror and it's going to get pretty bad. Still, I believe the whole point of writing fiction is to deliver messages that people would otherwise never receive, so by some parts of this chapter the message I want to convey to you is a reality that still operates in some parts of the world, and one which absolutely** ** _must_** **stop.**

 **Disclaimer; I don't own Artemis Fowl. Merely a fan who enjoys torturing the cast with deserts, whirlpools, monsters and every other horrid thing that crosses my mind.**

 **Special thanks to Berrybanana05, Elisarah, Noggen Podder and Reza Novaria for their continuous support!**

—•:;*"~€/°&—

CHAPTER TEN: THE CLIFFHANGER

Market day in Andrès, the capital city of Harpsichord island, was not any more special than market day in your average Jamaican town. It was a colourful and lively occasion, very noisy in a way the locals didn't mind, and promised bargains and prosperity from stall to stall, carpet to carpet. It was fresh, clean air around the city–if the little settlement could really be called that–but the main square was a bustling, unbreathable hub of activity. Humans and fairies alike made unfair use of their natural gifts– height, wings, tunneling ability–when they competed for the best bargains with limited stocks. A little into her explorative journey Vinyayà had come across a couple of human kids in the company of three young pixies on the beach and had frozen dead on the spot. Her elfin intuition was screaming at her to turn back and run. Her officer's sense of duty was urging her to knock the two humans out and take them back to Foaly for a mind-wipe. Eventually something in between the two had won and she'd unshielded, approaching the group with caution.

"Mind explaining...what exactly is going on?" she had asked, still too baffled to make head or tail of it.

One of the pixies gave her a weird look, saying, "There's market day happening in the square."

Vinyayà nodded slowly. "Alright. Okay."

And so here she was, shield down completely, walking in utter bafflement among the throngs of human and fairy vendors and buyers in the clustered mess that was market day in Andrès city.

 _This is where Opal is operating from?_

It seemed unbelievable. The city was just so...normal. Well, apart from the mixed species inhabiting it. Everything bore an aura of harmony, peaceful living and just _normalcy._ It looked nothing like Koboi's version of a balanced world. This was something straight out of the hermit Warlocks' books.

Vinyayà was snapped out of her aimless wandering when she bumped into something that felt like a wall. She uttered an apology and was about to move on before the wall-like human man spoke.

"Are you lost, missus?"

Vinyayà looked sharply up at him, startled yet again that a human would interact so casually with a fairy. But the genuinely concerned expression on the tall guy's face gave her an opening, and she took it.

"Actually I am. Do you think you've seen..." She reconsidered. Describing Koboi could be the wrong move; after all, who knew if these people _served_ the deranged pixie? "A female elf, red hair, shorter than average?"

The Mud Man shook his head apologetically. "Sorry. But it's hard to notice _anyone_ in a place like this, yeah?"

Vinyayà frowned. "Thanks."

She continued to make her way through the narrow earthen street in between the stalls and the crowds gathered around each, but she made up her mind then that she would make more inquiries. Thus whenever she happened to spot another fairy or, with greater reluctance, a human, who didn't appear too busy, she would venture forth with a description of Holly or Root and hope without much conviction for a positive reply. The day stretched on in this way and was parting into a breezy evening, and not once did the battery-operated device on her wrist alert her that her shuttle was moving, which meant that the portal wasn't closing and Foaly wasn't reeling her back in. Before the risk-fraught dive into the ominous black hole, the centaur had insisted on a sort of tracker-spray that he somehow _would_ be able to monitor from back in the mothership. Something about analog signals, not digital. The only thing it would keep him notified of were her vitals, so she didn't worry that the LEP would presume her dead either. She had plenty of time to get used to this odd reality.

Most of the crowds had dispersed by now, and even a majority of the sellers had packed up and gone home, leaving her with far fewer new faces to ask her questions from. By this time she'd managed to get noticed, too; it wasn't everyday an elf _with stark silver hair_ was the one to lose her companions and be looking for them.

So it was utterly unexpected that she would bump into someone again, and even more unlikely that this person's basket of goods would sail through the air and land ruined in a particularly fresh heap of dog-dung a couple of yards away.

This time she knew it wasn't her fault and that she had been looking where she was going, but Vinyayà noticed the bulk of the gnome and started to apologize anyway. The gnome wasn't listening.

"Those were the _best_ they had in stock, woman!" he bellowed. "No, don't offer to pay for them! You _can't_ pay for them! Pears are out of season and I ain't never going to get a bunch as good as that again!"

Vinyayà bit back a scathing retort, and said instead through gritted teeth,"It wasn't my fault."

"Oh-ho!" cried the burly fairy, who was three whole heads taller than her. Gnomes had a tendency to grow well above the average fairy height. "Is that a call to fight, lady?"

Vinyayà noted the crowd that was starting to gather around them and decided she had to get out of this situation quick. She didn't dare touch the Neutrino on her hip because that would garner even more attention, and perhaps from Opal as well, wherever she happened to be. "Over there!" She gasped, pointing urgently somewhere up at the sky. Everybody looked. She spun on her heel and made a dash for it.

"She's getting away!" yelped someone excitedly, and the further _oohing_ of the audience told her that the gnome wasn't letting her get away.

"I'm going to make you pay!" he hollered, hot on her heels, surprisingly fast for someone of his bulk.

"You said you didn't want money!" Vinyayà looked over her shoulder and shouted back.

"I'm going to beat you up!" he rephrased.

" _Dear Frond_ ," exclaimed the elf to herself, kicking up an extra boost of speed from her trained, agile legs. She had to lose him. If Opal, or people working for Opal, really surrounded this place, they were going to be alerted to her presence and then it would be the end of the line for everyone. The LEP would lose one more capable leader and no one would be left to seek her, Holly or Root.

She arrived in the open volcanic-ash beach and realized there was no place for cover except back in the city. That simply wasn't an option because it was dense with population. If she was going to fight, now was the best time to do it.

"Stop!" screamed the gnome, and she stopped, turning to face him and taking up a defensive stance. She steadily met his eyes. The guy looked confused for a moment that she was actually willing to fight, but the confusion turned into triumph and he came charging towards her.

A combo move, quick, almost undetectable, and the heavy gnome was on the sand. Vinyayà backed away just a bit and looked around. The beach remained thankfully empty...save for the kids from earlier who stared at her agape.

"It was just...ah, a game," she tried, smiling brightly. "I think I got carried away."

The gnome was starting to blabber something from the sand.

"What's that?" she pretended, crouching down. "I win? Well, thank you!"

He started to lift himself up and looked at her, eyes wide with panic. "Y-You're...Pathos!"

Now it was her turn to be confused. "What?"

But the gnome wouldn't listen anymore. He scrambled off the ground and started to run back, clutching at his head with both hands like the devil himself was chasing after him, even though Vinyayà remained rooted to the spot and convinced that the guy would raise the alarm and that Koboi would know of her presence in no time.

She had to go back. Return with a team that would be able to combat the Freaks.

No. What was she thinking? You couldn't simply _combat_ the Freaks. She would be sacrificing even more of her officers' lives. Why had she insisted on a solo mission? Because one person would be harder for Opal to find than several. All she had to do was lie low and do a little more digging.

The kids from earlier, two humans and three pixies, ran over to her excitedly.

"Miss, that was _awesome!"_

"Where did you learn that?!"

"I wish I could kick butt like that!"

Vinyayà blinked. "Sorry?"

One of the kids, perhaps the most perceptive of them, squinted at her in inspecting fashion. "You're not from around these parts, are you?"

"No. No, I'm not." Then, an odd moment of clarity coming over her, she asked, "Say, do you think you could help me with a few things?"

The children shared several looks, then nodded collectively.

"I'm looking for some people. One elf female, a bit shorter than average, red hair, brown eyes. And an elf male, a little muscle, grayish beard."

"Eyes?" asked one of the pixies.

Vinyayà had to hold back a smile for a reason she couldn't begin to comprehend. "Also brown. A lighter colour though. Looks angry most of the time."

"We'll keep a lookout," said one of the human kids enthusiastically. "Promise!"

The elf raised an eyebrow. She had no idea she could be good with kids. Not that many opportunities had presented themselves in the past, and the only kids whom she personally knew were the annoying brats of some especially nosy distant relatives. "Thank you," she smiled. "But I'm going to need another favour, and I'm afraid I can't pay."

"Lodgings?" guessed the perceptive one.

"Just for the night," said Vinyayà.

"I have a place," said a pixie girl. "You can stay for as long as you want. It's a little prickly, though, and it's never been lived in by a _person_..."

"Oh my gosh," one of the boys rolled his eyes. "Is it that stupid stable of yours? Gina, that isn't a place you keep a guest!"

"You're just saying that 'cause you're scared," Gina spat back. "I remember when we dared _you_ to spend the night there and you came back crying like a little–"

"It's _haunted_ ," the boy told their guest directly. "You hear all kinds of noises in there, miss!"

"Er...I'm afraid it's my best option," Vinyayà remarked uneasily. She was having a hard time getting used to kids who liked her. The annoying brats of her distant relatives were the type who snuck into your room and kept flicking the light switches when you were trying to sleep. "But thank you."

The evening was turning a little more pronounced when she followed the girl and the boy, whom she learnt was Gina's cousin, across the black-sand beach and into the town which went to bed early, that feeling of belonging to the surface world returning to her conscious mind in pretty much the same way the pale yellow clouds burned a fierce red when the sun took its proper place in the sky.

* * *

Artemis wasn't surprised that the level of technology possessed by a land that stubbornly held onto ox-carts when it could easily evolve into automobiles was such that naval transport happened on old-fashioned ships merely _assisted_ by motors. By his estimation the ride to Harpsichord island would've been an ideal two hours on a modern vessel; on this, though, it took five, but even with the antagonizing pace he was glad to see the line of desert dissipate over the horizon.

"I haven't noted a lot of similarities between the global landscape of your world and ours, Caleb," he commented. "For instance, how far have the continents shifted?"

On the bench opposite, Holly rolled her eyes and stuck two fingers into her ears to make it perfectly clear how much she cared.

"I don't know how things are in your world," replied Caleb, enjoying the exaggerated expressions coming from Mulch as well. "But I think you're right. We don't have a lot of space in between countries. Lotsa border issues here and there. Not that there really are _countries_ anymore, you see; just this landmass we _call_ a country, which just has a couple of thriving main cities–like Logos, although that one doesn't stay in one place–and a whole bunch of scattered settlements."

"And humans and fairies sharing the surface?"

"It's always been like that. But if you were going to ask, we specifically didn't get fairy help for this mission for a good reason. Koboi's undercover people are mostly unsuspecting fairies, and we can't risk the slightest leak of confidential information..."

Artemis raised an eyebrow. "Like your mother's name?"

Caleb gave a start, but then he got over it and sighed exasperatedly. "Yeah, like that. Especially that. I don't think she told you why?"

By this point even Holly was listening. "No. No, she didn't, and she didn't give us her name in the first place."

The boy shook his head. "You're not going to appreciate the reason."

Mulch perked up. "Guys, if we don't appreciate the reason we could just call quits on the mission, right?"

" _Diggums,_ " said Root warningly.

"It's if you get caught by Koboi's people," continued Caleb awkwardly. "And tortured–it's their custom–you wouldn't reveal her name even under strain because you don't actually know it. See, I'm under oath not to reveal her name in any circumstances, as is everyone else in her settlement assisting against Opal, but you guys aren't under that oath. I'm sorry, but you _would_ reveal her name if you were put through torture and you knew it."

Holly raised an eyebrow. "And _why_ is Koboi so interested in this name?"

Caleb averted his eyes. "Because out of all the settlements, there are some who have pledged alliance to Koboi. Our settlement is one of them and it goes by my mother's name. So if Opal finds out that we were sent by someone who was supposed to be on _her_ side, she will...burn us to the ground. She will kill everyone who lives in our settlement, and all for the worst of it. She's going to get paranoid about even the other leaders who pledged alliance and do the same for their people. That's why no matter what happens to us, we simply _do not_ reveal who sent us."

Their group of six fell into a strain of deathly silence.

The seemingly endless desert trek had drained them all of energy and spirit, so the sea journey away from it was the most rejuvenating thing any of them had experienced in a while. Everyone apart from Zone, who forever remained alert on his guard, eventually fell asleep and only awoke at the port of their destination, Harpsichord island.

* * *

The next morning, or _dawn,_ as Mulch would insist, as he felt his slumber had been disturbed two hours too early, was for the most part spent on an action plan to locate the next key. They were to split into teams of three in order to cover more ground, and also this time around Caleb described the key as being a dark purple sphere, about fist-sized, but not a shiny golden statue that stood over four feet tall. And so finding it could be a process that would take them days.

Artemis, Holly and Root set off in the direction of the island's East coast while Caleb, Mulch and Zone set out in the direction opposite, just when the morning sun was starting to creep into the sky which gave the dwarf an opportunity to shout, " _I told you so!_ "

Holly soon found herself in the position of peacekeeper in her group somewhere during the course of their journey when Root and Fowl started to argue about what kind of place the key was likely to be hidden in. And the worst part of all was that both arguments were on two extremes, with Root insisting that they should pay more attention to unsuspecting, populated places and Artemis quite patronizingly pointing out that there would be no need for such discretion on an island with enough natural nooks and corners to hide _all_ the keys.

They walked along the black beach now, albeit a deserted portion of it, surveying the landscape for anything out of place. Artemis broke off from the other two and headed over to where the land met the sea and crouched down, intriguingly observing something that Holly or Root didn't see.

"Is it the key?" shouted Root impatiently. "We can't waste the whole day on your _natural hideouts_ , Fowl."

"Major," Artemis called instead, blatantly ignoring the older elf. "I think you'll find this most interesting."

Raising an eyebrow, Holly headed over to the sea and crouched beside him. She stared at the spot he was staring at for the longest time, then had to ask, "Alright, genius, tell me what I'm supposed to find _most interesting?"_

Artemis cracked a grin. "You really don't see something different about the water?"

Holly looked closer, but still she withdrew with a snort. "No, Mud Man, I do not. It's not like I visit the beach everyday to know when something's out of place."

"Forgive me, I should've considered," Artemis stood up and brushed some sand off his elbows. Today he was wearing one of the shirts he'd picked up at Caleb's place and had rolled up the sleeves wanting to prevent the decent piece of clothing getting ruined in the day's expedition. "You'll see what I'm talking about. At around nighttime."

Holly frowned. "Nighttime?"

"Definitely. Let's get on with our search for now."

Root had his arms crossed and a very grumpy expression on his face by the time they strolled over.

"That's right, Fowl, Short, take your own cool time," he scowled. "Just remember that you have no right to complain when Koboi acquires that key before we do."

"I'll keep that in mind, Commander," said Holly resignedly, although there was a considerable amount of good humour in her voice. "Do you want to bet on what kind of place we'll find the key?"

Even Root found the prospect promising. "A bet with Fowl?"

"Obviously. _I'm_ staying out of this."

Artemis hid a cynical grin, slipping his hands into his pockets. "You're on, Commander."

"A lot of gold," said Root, saying it like he wasn't giving him another choice.

"A lot of gold. Though I'll need specifics."

Both elves shared a glance.

"And if–just _if_ , I'm saying–I lose the bet?"

Artemis didn't hide his smirk this time. "Why, then the LEP will have another Artemis Fowl gold situation, and it won't even make sense to them this time."

"I'm not betting anything," decided Root with finality, eyeing the Mud Man with an expression akin to mistrust bordering on intense dislike.

* * *

The Western part of the island which Caleb, Zone and Mulch traversed had paths that snaked through small villages, craggy places and even the occasional patch of forest. Deeper into the journey there were fewer signs of life and the rocky landscape turned obvious, with certain instances being either difficult to climb over or impossible to climb back down. They were at the mouth of a very promising–in terms of being the key's hiding place, of course–mountain forest when the mosquitoes started to sting.

"D'Arvitting _brutes,_ " cursed Mulch, then cursed in even more colourful Gnommish profanity as he proceeded to swat at the insects buzzing around him. Zone kept a watchful eye around them, intent on spotting any signs of the key, but the dwarf and the younger human had fallen several steps behind since the first contingent of six-legged Devils attacked.

"Funny," commented Caleb dryly, scratching at an already blistering area behind his neck. "You'd think the smell would drive them _away_."

Mulch whined very much like a spoilt child who was undergoing some form of lowly treatment he had never before experienced. "This is _not fair_. Who decided that Holly's team would get the lovely beach to do their searching?"

"We just decided on East and West, Mulch," Caleb fell an extra step behind, having some trouble clambering over a large boulder that completely blocked their path even though Mulch got past it without much difficulty.

"Well do your research next time!" came the disgruntled dwarf's voice from the path beyond the boulder.

"Ouch," grunted Caleb as he lost his grip on the large rock a second time. He tried scrambling over it again, and received even more painful scratches on his palms for his efforts. "Mulch, wait up!"

The dwarf didn't reply, probably in some childish attempt to punish him for getting them stuck with this part of the island.

Caleb assessed the space around him. How had Mulch made it over the giant rock so easily? He was a whole lot shorter...

Then, with a triumphant grin, he spotted a broad log some yards behind him. He retraced his steps, arrived at the log and crouched down to start rolling it. His expression of happiness didn't last long, and the log proved stubborn to move. Heaving, Caleb felt every muscle in his body strain yet didn't notice the slightest sliver of progress, so he soon found himself trying at every possible odd angle to get the thing to move. If he could just get it up to the boulder, he'd be able to clamber over it and get past that obstacle... _or_ he could just shout to Zone or Mulch to give him a hand.

"Mulch!" he yelled another time. "Mulch, I'm sorry! Damn it!"

Caleb eyed the boulder bitterly. He really couldn't understand how the fairy had surpassed it and he couldn't. And now the annoying creature was ignoring his cries for help and a sense of awful despair was starting to take over him, along with several doubts and questions and, Heaven forbid, realizations.

 _Mulch isn't there anymore. He's long gone._

"Zone!" shouted Caleb, truly desperate this time. " _Zone!_ Come on, man, I'm way behind you!"

He tried at the obstacle again. And again. Each time he lost either his grip or footing and on no try did he get so much as a glimpse of the road ahead, but he knew for certain that neither one of his companions were still within hearing distance. He only hoped they'd notice his absence and come back this way.

And just then, he heard voices. Coming from beyond the large, impending boulder. At first his hopelessness told him it was Mulch and Zone coming back, but as the voices neared he became infinitely glad he hadn't opened his mouth and given away where he was. It was definitely not two voices that he recognized.

"Ahh, D'Arvit, stupid rock is in the way," one of them noted languidly. "Are we gonna heave the crate over, pal?"

Caleb only took a couple of hasty steps back. That didn't _sound_ like others looking for the key.

"Nah," came a gruff voice. "I'll climb over and you pass me the crate. Careful, now."

There was a bout of cussing from the other side, but a rather large human with a bristled chin and rippling muscles climbed onto the boulder and, not noticing him, held his hands out so that his partner, an equally well-built dwarf, could pass him a big wooden box that was sealed from all sides. He set the box down carefully on the ground, still not noticing him, and proceeded to help the dwarf over the obstacle.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?"

The gruff voice cut Caleb out of his absent thinking. Both strangers were staring him down with disapproving expressions. Caleb hoped it was just his imagination playing with him.

"Probably one of 'em village kids out for vengeance," the dwarf snorted. "You know, like that lil' girl last time who was convinced we kidnapped her brother."

At this the boy started. That did _not_ sound good at all. Fear kept him rooted to the spot, still, and he found his legs refusing to run. His despondent mind knew that he wouldn't be able to outrun them anyway.

"He doesn't look like a village kid," the Mud Man squinted at him experimentally. "Fine specimen, I'll bet."

The dwarf barred huge blackened teeth in a grin. Mulch's own tombstone teeth looked a lot meeker in comparison. "You think the boss-man will pay for 'im, buddy?"

And that was when Caleb started to run. In his mind he had no idea just what the hell was going on, but instinct screamed danger at him and he ran as fast as his legs could carry him, so much so that he had kick off both shoes along the way, praying under his breath that he would lose these two before exhaustion took him.

And he might've, too. But somewhere along the way he was met with yet another fallen rock, smaller than the other one and something he vaguely remembered passing before, but the second he spent gaping hopelessly at it was all the time the man and the dwarf needed, having left the crate behind, to catch up to him and have him surrounded, ugly grins on their faces.

"Look, I'm just out for a walk and lost my...dad," he managed, hoping the mention of another adult would earn him some leverage. Anyway Zone could face these two off and annihilate them. He had to buy himself more time.

"Well, yer dad ain't gonna miss you, sonny," sneered the dwarf, before slapping a heavy patch soaked in chloroform across his face and making his world go dark.

* * *

"Miss Raine!" There were several knocks on the stable door, even though said door couldn't be locked and could be opened with just a little extra force.

Vinyayà rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and looked at her device before anything else. She'd looked, of course, to ensure that her shuttle hadn't been reeled back in, but what she found was an utterly unexpected piece of excellent news. There on a corner of the mini-screen sat a message with the words _if you get this, status report?_ and Foaly's signature.

There was banging on the door again, and Vinyayà shut off her device, slipped her Neutrino into the holster on her hip and ensured it wasn't visible, before calling out, "Come in!"

"We brought you breakfast!" announced one of the kids, who had introduced himself to her last evening as Alfon.

The elf blinked in surprise, though she really should have expected this. "Thank you, Alfon. Everyone." She added, noting that two other familiar faces peeked into the stable with him. She accepted the meal of soft bread and butter, and consented to being in their company while she ate. After all, it was only a matter of thanks, and they had been most helpful ever since her arrival.

"So where do you come from?" Gina asked eagerly. The others nodded their approval of the question.

"Well..." started the Wing Commander, and faltered. She still couldn't afford to give away details, even if she had supplied them with her first name when asked. "It's quite far from here; I doubt you'll have heard of it."

"I've been as far as Logos," said Alfon, who was human, proudly. "I'm _sure_ I'll know it."

"It's even beyond Logos, actually," invented the elf. "It's a...small town, quite hidden in a mountain area. Mostly fairies, though we occasionally do see humans around."

"Is it nice living there?" asked Gina's cousin. "I mean, Harpsichord island is quite a fun place, and they have a lot of celebrations here throughout the year."

"Well, where I come from there are a few celebrations, too," replied Vinyayà. "It's a nice place. Not as nice as your island, though. All we see everyday is just rocks, rocks, and more rocks."

The children giggled. "You probably travel often then, right?" asked Gina, grinning. "I know what it's like. I've been stuck in this city my whole life!"

 _No, you don't know what it feels like,_ thought Vinyayà. _You've always lived on the surface, so you'll never know what it feels like. I hope so, for your sake._

Their breakfast-time chat was interrupted when Sahe, the other human boy, came rusing into the stable looking excited. "Miss Raine, I saw them!"

Vinyayà was instantly on her feet, even though she had yet to process this information. "Who?"

"The elves you were looking for," Sahe jabbed a finger back in one direction. "I called out to them, but they didn't hear. I'm sure they're the ones you were looking for!"

Vinyayà couldn't believe the way her luck had changed. First, contact with Foaly and now actual confirmation that Holly _and_ Julius were alive, both in the same place.

"And...were they alone? They weren't with a large group, were they?" It was too good to be true that they weren't here as Opal's prisoners.

"Nope," said Sahe, who was by her estimate eight in human years. "There was this human with them, though, black hair, really pale-looking."

 _Artemis Fowl_ , she knew at once. The description, and the circumstances, fit well.

"I need to get to them," she was already on her way out the stable. Before she left, however, she turned back to the children and smiled again. "Thanks for everything. I'll never forget this help."

"Did you like the stable?" asked Gina's cousin doubtfully.

"Will we be seeing you again?" asked Alfon hopefully.

"It was great," she assured. "And probably, yes. See you later!"

 _D'Arvit_ , she thought to herself as she took off after Sahe, _I think I'm starting to_ like _kids._

* * *

Artemis, Holly and Root had covered most part of the coast without success, and now they ventured forth into a different part of the island; a large group of volcanic caves that ran deep and while both fairies in the group had immensely appreciated the natural miracle, Artemis had pointed out that if the caves weren't frequently explored, they would be a splendid place to hide something like the key. Root had promptly flashed him a threatening fist before following an excited Holly into one of the lava caves.

"Whose idea was it to bring the torches?" Root reminded them smugly as they explored every nook and corner of the cave with their flashlights. "And _who_ insisted that there would be no use of torches in broad daylight?"

"I only said that _once_ ," protested Holly. "Because we were supposed to get back before dark."

"But the point remains. It's not dark and we need the torches."

" _Sometimes_ , Commander..." The Major rolled her eyes and refrained from finishing the sentence.

The walls of the cave were smooth and dark, shaped by flows of lava over the centuries. There weren't many secretive corners that they could miss whilst they searched. It seemed increasingly unlikely that the caves would be a hiding place for _anything_ , unless the thing was tucked into the furthest reaches of one of the tunnels and they couldn't risk missing the key having been so close to it.

"I wish I could do this more often," commented Holly lightly as she emerged back onto the main path after going through a tunnel on the side.

"What, play a hidden object game with Opal?" Artemis raised an eyebrow. "That's _highly unusual_ even for you, Holly."

The elf rubbed her forehead, annoyed. "Not that, _genius_. Explore. Look around the surface."

"This is hardly the surface. It's a cave, in case you haven't noticed."

A well-deserved punch struck him hard in the arm. "Just shut up, Mud Boy. Let me enjoy this while it lasts."

Despite the punch that still hurt, Artemis couldn't help but chortle. "Goodness, you're _enjoying_ this?"

He was spared yet another violent blow when Root ducked out of another tunnel. "I can hear you going at each other's throats from quite far away. Would you _kindly_ shut it? Anyway, I think I just discovered something worth seeing."

" _Everything_ on this island is worth seeing," Holly pointed out.

"What a wonderful world," commented Artemis sarcastically.

"I remember ordering a _shut up_ ," snapped Root. "And no, this is actually related to the key. Might be."

Both human and elf grew serious at this. Without another word of protest, they ducked under the small opening and made their way along a narrow path of the cave reminiscent of Mulch's tunnel. The journey was for the most part made on elbows and knees and Artemis fought the inherent urge to complain. Holly was directly in a position to kick him in the face. It would not be a wise choice. Just as it was starting to get claustrophobic, Root stumbled out of the other end and the two of them soon followed.

They groggily stood up to a sight that knocked the wind out of them. To Holly it was especially effective.

Because they stood on a broad ledge overlooking a vast pit in the cave, and while the ledge carved on downwards in spirals and looked more a red colour than black, it was the army of rock statues in the valley below that garnered all of the attention.

Freaks. _Statues_ of Freaks. Hundreds of contorted, twisted humanoid figures clustered in one giant body frozen in volcanic rock, too detailed, too _eerie_ for the eyes. And yet they were definitely statues, unmoving, unblinking, and completely lifeless. The stale scent of danger in the air had to be purely psychological. The only thing that looked positive about the whole setup was that they were quite far away from it, and could turn around and run if the need arose.

"Th...Those are..." Holly breathed. Memories were starting to flash across her mind. Recent, most unwelcome memories. "Artemis. We need to get out of here. Now."

Root didn't look entirely enlightened on the subject. "What's wrong? They're just statues."

Holly was already starting to step back the way they had come. "No, Commander. Those are Freaks. The monsters we told you about."

Realization widened Root's eyes and he fixed his gaze on the eerie stone figures a long way below. "But...they aren't the real thing, right? Statues."

"We don't know that," admitted Artemis uneasily, feeling the same sense of rising dread that Holly had been struck with. "In fact there isn't a whole lot we know about them. This could be some kind of ability they have, and a whole regiment of them here in one place on standby could only mean..."

"Koboi," Holly caught on. "D'Arvit, Koboi's got to be here."

"In search of the key," the human nodded. "But she won't be foiled this time; she brought along a lot of backup to ensure that."

"D'Arvit," said Holly again, quietly. "We can't face them off. We need to get out of here."

Root couldn't bring himself to look away. Even with the distance between them and the so-called Freaks, this was the stuff of nightmares. "If Koboi gets that key...and we don't..."

"Then we'll acquire the rest of the keys and see to get this one somehow, later," Artemis stared down at the stone-still army of monsters. "We need to get off this _island_."

"At least the desert didn't have _this_ many," muttered Holly, crouching back into the tunnel they had come from. She turned around and beckoned them on. Artemis didn't have to be told twice but Root remained fixed to the spot, utterly incapable of ripping his eyes away from the multitude of monstrosity below. There was sweat forming on his brow for some reason or the other; something to do with the volcano, he assumed. And his entire frame trembled. Maybe the ground was shaking. Surely it could have nothing at all to do with...

A bout of raucous laughter echoed down one of the tunnel entrances to another ledge below them, and Root instinctively pressed himself back against the cave wall. Artemis crawled through to the mouth of the tunnel and looked for the source of the noise. Sweat trickled down his brow as well.

"I...know that voice," breathed the Commander. "Koboi."

"Ahh, you are one _hilarious_ mess, Deputy," the voice purred from a little way down below them, and now Root and Artemis could both make out the figure of a pixie female dressed in a black jumpsuit with violet streamlines, balancing dangerously on the lip of the ledge with childish glee as she spoke to a second figure. "You should really shoot whoever it was that gave you _that_ tip. Mascara as lip shiner! _Revolting!_ "

The second figure, taller, imperially slim and without a doubt human, wore a blue jumpsuit and a plain white mask that completely hid her face. Her hair had bright streaks of red running through with the black. "Yes, Queen Opal," her voice was so quiet that they almost didn't catch it.

 _Her subjects refer to her as Queen,_ despite their situation, Artemis raised an eyebrow. _And people say I have ego problems._

"Greetings, my lovelies," Opal called down at the pit where the stone army remained stationary. "I'm afraid I couldn't ask earlier. How much of havoc did you manage to wreak upon Atlantis?"

Root felt every ounce of his being stiffen and the colour drain from his skin.

Opal kept right on grinning at the stone figures, didn't get any visible response, but clicked her tongue and giddily walked a circle around the ledge.

"She's insane," said Root through gritted teeth, clenching his fists. "I swear by king _Frond_ that she's going to _regret_ the day she was born!"

"Quiet," hissed Artemis, but he had a bad feeling that the damage was already done. Sure enough, Koboi and her masked companion were starting to look around themselves cautiously. Actually, Opal had on her face an expression of real interest.

Holly made her way back down the tunnel and asked in hushed tones just what the hell was going on.

" _Found you!"_ Opal laughed a loud, menacing laugh that spread across the entire broad column of cave as her eyes settled exactly on the ledge they remained hidden on. She then narrowed her eyes testily, a slow grin coming over her lips. "Before you show yourselves, can I guess how many of you there are?"

Holly fell back in alarm, utterly unexpecting of this, but Root took it upon himself to step boldly– _stupidly,_ Artemis clenched his teeth– to the front and stare Koboi down coldly. She showed clear surpsie at the sight of him, but the grin didn't die away. Opal crossed her arms and tried to look disappointed.

Artemis felt the ground actually tremble under his feet, and his gaze travelled down towards the valley of frozen Freaks. Not frozen anymore. He could just make out the sight of rock and ash falling away as the things covered in them started to stir.

"I wanted to guess, Julius," Opal pouted. "But no matter. You're _still_ outnumbered!"

* * *

Caleb's unconscious form had been roughly lagged around further mountainous landscapes using the firm wooden crate as a carrier, and he had been taken through dizzy paths and difficult turns, cutting angles and past uninhabited areas of thicket, so when he at last awoke he found every ligament of his body threatening to tear and his muscles sore, aching, demanding that they'd get to rest.

Immediately recalling the day's events, he forgot the pain completely and bolted upright, only to find himself in an iron bed-frame with no mattress confined to grey coloured walls. But even though these surroundings were utterly unfamiliar, his eyes caught sight of something that gave him hope; the walls didn't completely cut him off from the outside world. There was a narrow door through which dust riding in sunlight poured in.

He wanted to jump over the frame and make a dash for it, but even the movement of slinging his feet over the side of the frame triggered an unbearable throbbing in his legs and back, and there was a rational voice in his head saying that there wasn't freedom around anyway. Why would they make it so easy for him?

He reached into his hair to give his protesting head a massage, but his fingers found a thick, outstanding line on his scalp that had never been there before. Shakily, he started to trace it to the back of his head. He found the tail end of a stitch.

Forgetting all purpose of safety, Caleb screamed.

* * *

"Caleb? _Caleb!_ D'Arvitting Mud Boy," Mulch grunted, hopping back down from the tall rock. "I'm sorry, big guy, but my eyesight doesn't even stretch very far."

Zone's only response to that was a deathly scowl that sent the dwarf scrambling up another rock to resume his search.

It had only been half an hour since Mulch had last seen the boy, but they both knew that it was going to be a big miracle if, when they found him, he would be completely unhurt. They were competing with someone as ruthless as Opal Koboi with something as dangerous as the Freaks to back her up; hell, it would be a _luxury_ to even think that Zone's charge had merely gotten himself lost.

"We'll head back," said Zone in his fully neutral voice. His eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes themselves bore intense anger and worry in them, but his voice remained what it had always been. Undefinable. In fact, Mulch thought, this was perhaps the sixth time ever he had heard the large Mud Man talk. They retraced their steps, but it was a painfully slow process as every time they had to look around, venture some distance into either the surrounding forest or up the tremendous crags calling out Caleb's name and hanging around long enough to know for sure that there had been no response. Eventually they had searched for what felt like hours on end, spending long stretches of time in every individual place, and had yet to come across any evidence of the missing boy. They had just overcome one particularly large boulder when the first and only clue presented itself.

"Er...Mud Man, you're not going to like this..."

Zone impatiently made his way forward and brushed the dwarf aside to get a look at what he had found. He froze on the spot.

A pair of weathered slip-on shoes, upturned, a fair distance apart from each other, stared back at him.

* * *

"Now you know that running is useless," said the old man smugly, crossing his legs and smirking at him from the chair at his bedside. He wore a filthy lab coat lookalike and possessed a drab, unruly head of white hair and a pair of thin spectacles that barely sat on his nose. He looked inquisitive, like a bird of prey, and at the same time he looked merciless.

Caleb didn't even have the willpower to scowl. He just looked up with glaring eyes because the new bruises on his face didn't allow for anything else.

"Though I must say, you put up quite a struggle," the man continued, shrugging. "Managed to wind one of my strong men too, before you tried to run. Wastoch was right; you're a fine specimen."

Caleb ripped his gaze away and turned to face the wall against which the iron bed frame was pressed. If his body had hurt before from exhaustion, that hurt was long gone and now it hurt purely because of the beating he had received when he tried to run. There were gashes on his skin now, too, and blood on his lips and collar. He had refused to let the man clean it up and, even though he had fully expected it, not received another lashing for his insolence. _Zone is coming for you_ , he thought sourly. _All of you. And you're going to wish you'd never laid your filthy hands on me._

"Do you want to know why we stitched up your head?"

Caleb didn't turn to face him.

The man sighed. "Alright, do you want to know where you are? Who _we_ are? Why you should be afraid of us?"

"I know," Caleb managed to spit out. "You're a bunch of sick lunatics who sell children or some shit. _You_ should be afraid."

The guy in the filthy coat laughed. He laughed so hard that he was clutching at his sides, Caleb saw because he looked over his shoulder, and he actually ended up wiping a sordid tear off his cheek. He looked at the boy with a maniacal grin.

"Sell _children?_ " the man asked gently, in stark contrast to the expression on his face. "Dear boy, how very _close_ you are. No. But we have no business in selling _children._ "

Caleb brought his chin to chest and didn't look the other way. "Witchcraft? Voodoo rubbish?"

"Nothing so _dramatic_ ," the man reached into a satchel that was slung around his shoulder. "Just organ trade."

Caleb felt his heart leapt to his throat, startled, and turned to the man with wide, fearful eyes. To his absolute horror the guy was holding some sort of scalpel, unsterilized, blood at its tip. What was he going to do? What...no, that's _ridiculous._ What the hell would he manage to accomplish with such a tiny set of tools?

"You didn't ask, but I'm sure you want to know why we cut and stitched up your head," the man sounded quiet now, commanding. "Truthfully, we weren't intending on...damaging you so soon. That was the work of my stupid assistant. He has a thing for brains and the like, _even though_ many orders don't come through for those."

Bile rose up his throat now. He didn't hold it back. Caleb crawled over to the edge of the frame and gagged. He hurriedly wiped off the stuff from his chin, detecting that it was mixing with the blood from his lip, and asked without the initial bravery, "He...tried to...my _brain?"_

"Full blooded idiot, he is," snorted the man. "Be thankful that we saved you. Had the stitch sewed up and my assistant dragged away whining."

His breaths came in heaves, now. He was afraid. As afraid as he had been when Ethos had beckoned to him, but while Ethos could be overpowered with the mind, _these_ circumstances couldn't. He needed more than willpower. He needed Zone, and Mulch, and Holly and Artemis. And even more than that he needed his mother. Now more than ever.

"First thing to go, the kidneys," announced the man as if it was an announcement he made everyday. He stood out of his chair and straightened his coat. "Consider yourself privileged. This is between the two of us, but the order comes from a Logos ruling class family. I do hope you don't fall sick anytime during your brief stay."

And with that he was left alone, which he was glad for, but despondent and without much hope to hold onto as even the sunlight streaming through the open door started to fade ever so slightly, little by little, until it became apparent that hours had passed and no help was coming.

* * *

They scrambled out of the other end of the tunnel and for just one precious moment, all was fine. But the harrow noises of the Freaks were starting to cut the walls around them and Koboi's laughter rang in their ears. Suddenly, the tunnel-mouth broke into rubble bits and two of the long-limbed, twisted creatures hunched in their path, blocking the small bit of light that came from outside the caves.

Root turned around and made a dash the other way, further into the cave, Holly and Artemis following rapidly behind him. But the Freaks did not hurry. Their noises alone chased them.

Turning into a broad segment of the cave, they came across several tunnel mouths of which some would be dead ends and others would lead to other caves. There was no time for thinking. Hands clamped over his ears, Root dove into the nearest one, Holly took a smaller one, crawled a few feet in and tore open her pack for the earmuffs they'd made use of in the desert earlier. Once she had them on all sound faded into the distance, and she could think and see with clarity what was going on around them.

The Commander was visible to her, ears covered and head cradled in his arms, resisting the high-pitched screech of Ethos. But she couldn't see Artemis. He had headphones, though, didn't he? And it had worked for him before...

Slow applause arrived down the main cave and Holly could see Opal's boots, and her hands on her hips as she admiringly watched on something ahead of her. Another pair of feet joined her. Holly couldn't make out what they were saying, but it instant became obvious that _Artemis_ was currently cornered and probably succumbing to the lure of Ethos already.

Acting purely on impulse, Holly drew out one of the human pistols they'd purchased in Gilemo earlier and fired at the pixie's feet. Opal jumped, managing to avoid it, but Holly used this distraction to launch herself out of the tunnel mouth and herald towards her. She knocked the pixie off the ground, giving rise to a colourful string of cursing, and fired again at the two Freaks who blocked her sight of the human genius. The noise stopped emanating from them. They slowly turned to look at her.

Holly could feel her fingers trembling at just the sight of the creatures. It was an automatic response that triggered in her brain. Fear. Wanting to just quit knowing she couldn't win anyway.

That was when Root stepped into the scene and lunged at the Freaks, his senses completely open to their attacks, but Holly was astounded beyond belief when he latched himself to the gnarled back of one and put on it enough weight to drop it on its undefined knees. It lashed out at him with its talons, but Root seemed to have prepared and dodged the first strike. The Freak tore off the flesh from its own back.

"Stop staring!" Opal shouted at her human companion. "Do something!"

The other woman drew out a blaster and aimed it directly at Holly. But she hesitated. It was all the time the elf needed to fire at _her_ and then make a run for where Root struggled with one Freak and Fowl shut his ears tightly against the screeches of the other. One look at the situation told her she was overpowered.

"I'll need to borrow that," said Holly, and fired for the Deputy's weapon. It flew out of her fingers and Holly leapt fast to retrieve it, immediately firing at the Freak who occupied Artemis. It crumpled to the ground, not dead but damaged, and just as Artemis removed his hands from his ears she aimed at the Freak who struggled with Root on its back. But it wasn't staying still. It was violently twisting and turning, and she was more than likely to hit her Commander instead.

More Freaks arrived. Many more. Their shadows fell over her and they completely blocked off any form of retreat, the path, the tunnels included. Opal groggily got to her feet and wiped off a speck of dirt from her cheek.

"Finish them off," she snarled. "Send every one of them to Ethos."

The earmuffs did nothing against the collective screech that followed. Holly still held onto the blaster tight and pointed it at Opal, but her fingers were even more shaky now. She dropped to her knees as well. She was starting to loose all coherency of her surroundings.

"Queen Opal," said the masked human quietly, fixing in a pair of earbuds that blocked out the noise. "Don't you think it would be better...a little more dramatic, perhaps..."

Opal raised a barely patient eyebrow. "You keep right on disappointing me, Kyre. This had better not be a stupid suggestion."

The woman known as Kyre silently related her idea. Looking pleased, Opal ordered her monsters to stop.

* * *

Caleb woke up to the feeling of rough fingers gently rinsing the dirt from his face. His first reflex was to draw back violently and shout, "I told you not to _touch_ me!"

The fingers withdrew at once. It was only then that his eyes managed to focus.

Before him knelt a girl of about seven with wide black eyes and an even more battered face than his. She had short, cropped brown hair and wore a dress that had faced mud, dust and dirt and lived to tell the tale. She looked frightened from when he had shouted at her.

He instantly felt bad. "I'm sorry. I thought you were one of them."

The girl bit her lip.

"Don't cry," he pleaded gently, taking her hand. "It's alright. I'm sorry."

She finally spoke in a soft voice. "When did they bring you?"

"Just today. This morning," he looked about, and noted that nighttime had yet to fall. It was still the dull glow of evening that came in through the open door. "How did you..."

"I go everywhere," whispered the girl. "They don't notice unless they need me. Come."

Caleb shook his head. "Last time I tried to run away _this_ happened to me."

"Don't run away," said the girl simply. "You can't run away. But you can walk about."

"I don't think..."

But she was already headed out the door, and he suddenly feared being alone again. He willed himself to stand on the ground and took shaky steps after her. But his pace improved with each step, and he felt inexplicably much better. He eventually took the reluctant step out the door, but was shocked to find no guards stationed outside. But a strong and revolting smell struck his nostrils and he covered them, looking around and ready to puke.

"Don't look that way!" the girl grabbed his hand. "Those are the...the..."

"Harvested organs?" guessed Caleb, trying not to be sick.

She didn't respond to that and continued to guide him through the camp instead. Caleb noted with disgust these... _brutes_ happened to live quite ordinary-looking lives, because the camp was a village of several brick houses, a patch for vegetable farming, a small barn and a fence that surrounded all of it. A _heavily fortified_ fence of barbed wire along which several burly men, dwarfs and gnomes stood sentry, but even these guards didn't notice them as they walked through the compound.

"What's your name?" he asked, attempting at normal conversation that didn't revolve around escaping confinement or illegal organ harvesting. They walked past a couple of fenced houses now, and Caleb caught a glimpse of the white-haired man from earlier within one and quickened his pace.

"Sona," the girl said, looking up at him. She still held his hand timidly.

Caleb managed a smile. "I like that. Sounds exotic."

Sons blinked. "Ex-what?"

"Er...exotic. You know, like all cultural and cool?" They were well past the fenced houses now, and for that he was grateful. "I'm Caleb, by the way."

She smiled brilliantly for the first time. "Nice to meet you!"

 _This is a right royal mess I've gotten myself into,_ his thoughts from earlier started creeping back under his skin as they hurried past yet another patch of foul-smelling air. _How on earth is anyone going to find me? I didn't even leave anything behind, so there's literally no clue–wait a minute. Is she...?_

The little girl looked happy now, walking with her hand in his, but the very state of her dress and the dirt encrusting her features made it all too clear that her situation wasn't very much different from his.

"Were you taken too?" he blurted, before he could consider the question.

Sona looked at him sharply, the smile on her face gone. She looked hurt that he would even mention it in the first place.

"Sona, wait!" he called desperately as the girl let go of his hand and ran off in another direction. He couldn't possibly hope to catch up in his beaten state. He watched despairingly as she disappeared behind the curtain of a small thatched hut.

He snapped to look behind him when he heard chuckling.

"That one," the white-haired man shook his head. "Is quite a character, huh?"

Caleb gritted his teeth and stumbled back. "Get away from me, you psycho!"

"Got her a month ago," continued the man conversationally, unfazed. "Then orders for one kidney and a pair of ovaries. But how is she to go on without those organs, hm? It's better if she remained with us and continued to assist people who can _afford to live_."

"You're a bloody _psychopath!_ " shouted Caleb, losing his resolve entirely. He dove straight into the man, knocking him to the ground, but he was soon apprehended, struggling, by two of the guards who'd stood at his house. Caleb thrashed and kicked at the air, trying lividly to free himself and strike another blow, but his strength was depleted and he didn't make any progress. The man slowly got to his feet and looked him in the eye.

"Can't keep a client waiting," he stated calmly. Then, to the guards, "Strap him to my table. I'll be down in about thirty minutes."

"I hope you burn in _hell!_ " Caleb called after him, inflamed. "And I hope you burn in Ethos before that!"

* * *

There was a pleasant sea breeze in his face when Artemis came to, but it didn't feel all that pleasant for long. Sharp talons digged into his sides, causing him to hiss with pain, and when he managed to crack his eyes open he wished he had just not done so.

Holly, only conscious enough to continually curse Koboi under her breath was in the same position as him, as was Commander Root who had enough energy in him to yell rather than mutter under his breath. That position being dangling over a particularly wide cliff surface overlooking the rocks against which the sea battered, held out by the large talons of a Freak each. Was Opal going to issue an order to drop them? Surely not; Ethos would be a worse torment than breaking their necks.

He couldn't see Koboi as she spoke. "How does it feel, Artemis, to have met your match?" she asked teasingly. "Pardon me, not your _match._ I am brighter than you ever were by a thousandfold. Isn't that right, Kyre?"

Artemis's eyes widened.

 _Kyre?_

"Yes, Queen Opal," replied the woman, almost inaudible.

Ideas started to flash through his mind. Help was at hand then, definitely. And hadn't it been Kyre's idea to do this rather than have them trapped in Ethos? She had a plan. She _had to_ have a plan.

It all instantly became clear. Why Koboi's human companion had been so quiet and had let Holly get ahold of her gun that easily.

"Oh, and you're smarter than you sound, too," Koboi assured her. "After all, I didn't even think how much more fun it would be to trap them in Ethos _with_ broken necks!"

Artemis almost rolled his eyes at the reversed twist of fate. He was mistaken then. And this was one of the absolute worst occasions to be proven wrong. "Just get on with it, Opal."

Opal snorted. "Get on with it? This is my _moment_ , Mud Man. You'll pay for that."

She nodded at the Freaks. "Start it."

The three of them instantly winced and gritted their teeth as the high-pitched screeches pierced their eardrums. There was no guarding it this time, their arms were held tightly bound; Artemis already felt the deathly lure of Ethos. His surroundings were rapidly shifting, his world was turning and the sea breeze started to turn into a spitting gas. He blinked his eyes open to a new landscape. The sound was still pummeling his head.

Sickly, cracked earth, crevasses, pits, green smoke. Here there were darker columns of gas shaped out like buildings, looming in the distance, and rippling skies of terrifying hues. There was a lot of wailing, the source of which he couldn't tell, and several more otherworldly noises joined in with Freaks' screeching. He told himself not to believe it, not to trust anything his eyes fed him; Ethos could be escaped on willpower, after all. This was a battle of wits he couldn't afford to lose. But somewhere in the real world, he was about to have his skull smashed onto large rocks from a great height, watched on by his nemisis and her backup crew of ten other monsters, and there was nothing he could do about _that_ –

Something else sounded in the air around them and Artemis found his eyes snapping open to the real world. No more green gases and rapid clouds. He was still facing the sea beyond and the evening that was dawning across the sky, but the Freaks' noises had definitely stopped and he could hear something like blaster fire from behind him.

The Freak holding onto him suddenly turned on its heels, dropped him onto the hard cliff surface and surged forward to where the fight was taking place. Artemis only found it within his capabilities to stare, _unable_ now to believe what his eyes were feeding him.

Beside him Holly, who had also been dropped, got to her feet and went for the Freak that still held Root in semi-consciousness. She grabbed at its legs and made it fall twistedly on the ground beside him and Artemis jerked back just in time to avoid being fallen on. Root groaned and Holly rolled the Freak off of him. Then she looked back up at the incredible battle that was unfolding on the safer end of the cliff.

An elf in LEP gear with a prominent mane of stark silver hair kept on firing at Opal's Freaks without pause. They had surrounded her now, and their screeches were all directed at her, but it had absolutely no effect and she continued to blast them all down with a standard model Neutrino. Kyre and Opal were both gone now and reinforcements of Freaks did not come. Once she had taken down the ten backup as well as the three that had held them before, she didn't have any more left to fight. None of them were dead, only knocked out for the time being; the elf seemed to know this and fired two shots each at the twitching, defeated forms that lied in piles around her.

One of the Freaks lifted its head enough to start the mournful howling again but it received a blast directly in its featureless face and it fell back, limp.

The elf with the Neutrino suddenly crumpled to the ground and Holly rushed forward, but then she looked up, winced in pain and muttered that she'd live.

"Wing Commander–" started Holly disbelievingly. "That was...that...you took out _all of them!_ "

Vinyayà hissed again as a hot surge of pain shot through her midriff, but she met Holly and grunted, "D'Arvitting _claws_ had me there. Let me heal, Major."

Realizing that he was being of little use, Artemis allowed Root to lean on him and stand up, and the older elf gave him an incredulous look. "Did your black magic thing again?"

Artemis lead him over to where the newcomer was trying to kickstart her healing magic, and failing. It clicked to him that just like Root, she too would've lost her magic when she arrived here.

In his injured state, Root almost did a double-take. " _Raine?!"_

Vinyayà met his eyes, but when she spoke she didn't address him in particular. "My magic isn't working."

"That happened to me too," said Root, still looking shocked. "How did you get here? Was it...Koboi? Same thing she did with me and Holly?"

"She..." the female elf allowed Holly to support her up. "Left an opening. We can get back to Haven if we hurry."

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but we _do_ need to hurry," Artemis was already taking Root's weak form away despite the older elf's protests. "Opal has an entire army inside the caves. I don't see why she wouldn't use it."

* * *

Mulch and Zone had taken the whole of the afternoon to trace the only clue that had been left, and this proved extremely difficult and directionless right up until they'd come across a path of wet earth leading into the forest where two sets of footprints had deeply embedded. It could be a completely false trail, they were certain of it, but there was little other option left.

The path had taken through the most confounding of routes, as if it was made difficult by deliberation. It was evening by the time they arrived at what looked like the wrong destination for all their trials– there was no way Opal or her people would be holding him captive in an ordinary looking village that didn't have much for defenses.

"You don't think that's odd?" asked Mulch, just as they turned back the way they'd come.

"What's odd?" questioned Zone in his gravelly notes.

"How heavily guarded that village is. There was a barbed wire fence and sentries everywhere."

Zone regarded him like he was insane. "There was nothing of the sort."

Mulch raised an eyebrow. "How could you have possibly missed it? There was one village on the right that looked pretty useless, and this one on the left looking like some major government secret is hidden in there–"

Zone turned around and headed back in long, determined strides. It was true; he'd only seen one of the villages. This one he'd completely missed. Mulch was right; barbed wire, sentries, some carrying _arms_ ; and he finally felt he had found his charge.

"B-But you can't just run in there!" started Mulch.

"I'm not going to _just_ run in there," Zone said, a little irately. He pulled the earmuffs over his head.

* * *

 _So this is how it's going to end_ , Caleb found himself thinking. _They're going to remove me, piece by piece, until I have nothing left to live on and be of no use to them._

The guards had strapped him too tightly to the table, stirrups holding down his ankles and flat rope pinning his chest so that all he saw was the steel grey ceiling and the single bright light suspended above his face.

He didn't feel panicked anymore, though. All he could think of was Sona, the little girl who had undergone much worse and survived. He didn't want to imagine how many more had had the same thing done to them and _not_ made it out alive–or even sane, he would understand that. He felt sure that he would lose his mind if this were to happen a couple more times.

The silhouette of a face appeared before the light that burned his eyes.

"Get on with it, Doctor," he groaned. "Could you just _wash your hands_ first?"

A surprisingly sweet voice answered, a littler offendedly. "Why do you keep thinking I'm him?"

Caleb gaped. "Sona!"

She placed a finger to her lips. Dumbfounded, he only nodded and watched in amazement as she utilized one of the sharp tools on the surgical desk beside them to cut at his bonds.

"What are you _doing_ here? It's dangerous, you're going to get into trouble if they see you!"

"If I was alone," she said, a twinkle in her eyes. "But with you, we might escape. I though I would never get out of here, but today when I saw you attack the doctor..."

Despite being fully conscious of the repercussions of that hope, Caleb couldn't help but smile. "No, Sona. _You_ gave me hope, just now."

He forced his aching legs off the table when all the stirrups fell apart. He didn't waste more than a minute rubbing his pained wrists, though, and followed the little girl as soon as she started heading for whatever the way was out of this basement.

They made their way through a long passage with sparse lighting and stone walls–it was empty, but their footfalls echoed and Caleb couldn't shake off the creeping sensation of being watched. Of walking into a trap.

Suddenly Sona stopped. She dodged sideways into a hole that lacked a door, dark and completely devoid of light, but when he heard footfalls that _weren't_ a child's he hurriedly leapt in after her, throat constricted, heart and mind's eye unimaginably fearful.

From their still perch in the inky blackness, they closed their eyes and held their breaths as the imminent danger passed on, and although they caught no glimpse of it, it could only be the doctor and his people. There was no help or good from these quarters. The only good souls in the entire area happened to be the ones in hiding.

 _Now?_ Caleb gestured. The girl waited a moment, pensive, but then took his hand and cautiously stepped out into the little bit of lighting that the basement offered. And just then a shout echoed from far down the passage. The empty table had been discovered.

Sona ran, her knuckles turning white around his, and Caleb needed only to rely on his fear to take him forward. His breath shuddered in his ears while his running feet were disturbingly quiet. He did not look back.

They ran and the shouts followed them. They reached stairs, and a speck of nighttime from above. The exit. Their way out.

"Go, go, go!" Caleb ushered the girl before him and followed fast on her heels. It was a brief flight of stairs, very brief; but to him it felt like the longest run of his life. They could not have reached apparent freedom any sooner.

"They'll _get_ you!" panted Sona, grabbing at his sleeve once again, and the dying rational part of his brain explained that running straight for the barricade was not a wise idea. He followed her without a word of question. He was certain that the doctor and possibly ten of his men were behind them now, but he followed without question. She knows this village, the rational part said. She'll know where to hide, too.

"In there," the six-year-old went straight for and into a small house with an open door and its lights on. His feet faltered as his brain shot warning signals. Surely... _not_...

There was a cry from the bend leading to their road, primal instinct took over again, and he ran headlong into what he subconsciously knew was a terrible idea. Inside the house he was met with yellow light and a rapidly blinking face of an unfamiliar woman. Sona peeped from behind a badly worn wooden door and frantically beckoned. Continuing to stare strange down with wide eyes, Caleb followed her.

From outside he heard the door lock and a drawer bang. They stood inside a cramped, dusty storage room, and the little girl's finger was pressed to her lips.

Time passed. Ages.

Then there were voices just outside the door.

"Children?" asked a woman's voice, trembling. "N-No, sir."

"No?" asked a skeptical, merciless voice that they both knew too well. "What's all the shaking for?"

"I...I just..."

A new voice sprung up. "'Fraid of the sight of us, I bet," it smirked. "She can't do nothin'–"

"Search the house, you imbecile!" shouted the doctor. "And you, woman. Heaven forbid if this is a lie–"

Chairs were dragged. Curtains ripped open. And then doors were tried.

Sona gasped, but Caleb clamped a hand over her mouth just in time.

"Boss, this one's locked!"

Caleb turned his eyes the other way and prepared for the worst. Yet again he could only bring himself to think of the little girl, and the difficult short life she had lived, and everything her future, if any, would lack...while he had only just been introduced to this horror. While almost all of the thirteen years of his life had been spent fishing in the streams that ran through Logos across commercial roads like railway lines, and standing by his mother shouting words of praise for the rebellion when they lost that homeland. Trekking the mountain regions of distant countries, jumping off cliffs into cold, welcoming waters, and having his friends and his loyal bodyguard by his shoulder every time. His life had been all fun. Hers, the distinct haunting in her eyes told him, had been nothing like that.

Several hands tried the doorknob. Weak and loose though it was, it held, and at last the hands were withdrawn.

"Where's the key?"

The woman whimpered in reply.

" _Damn it, woman, where's the blasted key?!"_

"I...In the...cupboard."

"You _think!"_ snorted the doctor. "Wastoch, get to it!"

Wood being torn off the wall. Ceramic breaking.

"There's a ring, boss."

" _Which key is it?"_

"I...I don't know."

"Try everything," snapped the boss. "Try every bloody key."

The doorknob rattled unbearably. Sona clutched to his shirt as if he could protect her from what was coming.

It rattled.

And stopped, as the key was changed.

It rattled again.

Stopped.

Aggressively now.

"Nothing works," grunted the man. "They're all broken."

"They're not _broken_ , you fool. The lot of you, alert the guards at the fences. That kid is _somewhere_ in this village and I will see to it that he _never_ thinks of escape again."

The door was slammed, the front door. Everything descended into quiet.

"Miss Amarie," breathed Sona, when the door was opened carefully. She ran into the woman's open arms.

"Don't worry," she whispered, stroking the little girl's dirt-plastered locks. "They can't get you. I won't let them."

"Uh, Miss..." started Caleb shakily. "I have to thank you–"

"Don't," cut the woman with surprising firmness. "My husband is one of the nitwits serving under that man and I owe you this much for all you've been through."

"Thank you," finished Caleb anyway. "Thank you so much."

The small house around them bore the impression of one that had been hit by a hurricane and stood. There were broken white plates on the floor and upturned chairs, disarrayed cushions, limply hanging curtains. A cupboard that been previously fixed to the wall now lay, hinges broken, on the back of a toppled sofa. Caleb took this in and instantly felt terrible. Here they had caused this woman nothing but disaster–

" _I AM NOT GOING TO REPEAT! WHERE IS HE?!"_

He froze. Everyone else did, but only he recognized _that_ voice.

"Zone!" cried Caleb, suddenly elated, suddenly _unafraid._ Because wherever his longstanding friend and guardian was, he would _always_ be safe. He ran excitedly to the window and uncaring now if the doctor or his men saw him, looked through and yelled in delight. Dumbfounded, Sona stood up beside him and Miss Amarie didn't look quite certain how to react.

The giant manservant had left behind him a frenzy of bodies still living but with broken bones and now held two gnomes of a lesser stature in each veined fist. Neither fairy managed an answer. Their heads were smashed together and their unconscious forms were thrown aside like paper balls.

Mulch arrived on-scene, panting. "I can't find him. There are _more_ of these thugs on the other side."

" _You_ ," Zone towered over the imbecile from before. "Do you know where the boy is? _Think_ before you lie to me."

The big man looked like he might stutter. And he did, when he replied.

"H-He got away, I s-swear!"

"Ooh, let me," Mulch grinned a sadistic grin. Zone stepped away, frowning, but his eyes widened with alarm when he got the gist of what the dwarf meant.

"Diggumms, no–"

"Just cover your _own_ nose," Mulch rolled his eyes, and opened his bum flap in the guard's face.

" _PLEASE, I DON'T KNOW WHERE HE–"_

Caleb's heart and mind felt such tremendous joy at seeing his friends again in a moment like this that it didn't even occur to him to prepare for the tirade of foul-smelling dwarf gas that followed. But it didn't affect him much thanks to the distance–just a stab of wooziness he could cope with.

"Someone would have raised the alarm by now," said Mulch matter-of-factly when he noted that the guy had passed out. "We gotta find him fast."

"Here!" shouted Caleb, already in the process of climbing out the window. "Come on, Sona. That's another thing hope looks like!"

* * *

 **Author's Note; 13K words in this one!** **You won't believe how difficult it was to find time; one hour on two Saturday evenings and the couple of minutes I got free from relatives at a family wedding was what it took to eventually produce this.** **Please leave me a review; writing this chapter was an experience in itself.**

 **Coming up next; the final Key is all or nothing, but is there even worse to come?**


	11. Chapter 11: Starlight

**Author's Note;**

 **IMPORTANT:** **In case you missed it last time, this fic is going to contain** ** _significant_** **spoilers for all the AF books, not just the ones before TEC. I've changed the first chapter's A/N to have this warning. I'm really sorry if you needed to know before.**

 **Very special thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, your support means so much to me!**

 **On another note, you should totally read Colf's WARP trilogy. It's really funny and heartfelt, full of unmistakable Artemis references and some pretty rad characters. I LOVE Garrick!** ** _There's_** **a villain.**

 **Disclaimer; I do not own Artemis Fowl and related characters. Enjoy!**

—•:;*"~€/°&^—

CHAPTER ELEVEN: STARLIGHT

"Around here," said Vinyayà, her knees giving way to perch on one of the dark, glossy rocks that squat guarding the rich black sand from the struggling reach of the sea. As evening blended seamlessly in with nighttime, the sea was calmed and the rocks lost much of their proud gleam. Everything turned quiet, solemn, like lying in wait for the moon's full glow to fall upon it.

The elf tapped at her wrist-computer, which emitted no noise. No warning. The portal was still open, and now that Foaly had got her message explaining the goings-on of this strange world, he wouldn't be reeling the shuttle in without her either. "I can take only one passenger at a time, but we need to be double quick. Frond knows that Koboi isn't going to take long to realize her mistake."

Uneasy silence greeted this statement. She frowned up at the mildly contemplative faces.

"Something I'm supposed to know?"

Holly only sighed, closing her eyes. Fowl looked about to break whatever news to her, but Root interrupted before he had the chance to start.

"We can't go back. Not just yet. We're here on a mission to get ahold of the one thing that can stop Koboi."

The Wing Commander raised an eyebrow, but didn't look skeptical. "Haven is on the verge of total collapse. Atlantis has already fallen. And the LEP's best people are all dead to the world, all because my command has failed. Your leadership is what the People need right now. I won't deny them that."

Holly was taken slightly aback by the bluntness of these words. "You can't take the blame–"

"You haven't answered our initial query," reminded Artemis. "Because that answer, I can assure you all, will determine if we return to our world now or not."

Root glared daggers at him. "I've no time for your games, Fowl."

The human took a place on one of the scattered rocks and didn't lose his patience. "Wing Commander Vinyayà is no doubt immune to Opal's Freaks–inherent, or acquired?"

Vinyayà snorted, averting her eyes to where the moon's reflection met the oddly bright waters of the sea. "There are no _what ifs_ , Fowl, only that Root and Holly need to get back to the LEP and do something about the Freaks in _our world_."

"If your immunity was acquired–an uncommon drug, perhaps, or a concoction of Foaly's own–then we can abandon this mission where it stands and it won't prove to be a loss. The whole purpose of wanting to infiltrate Logos is to get hold of this so-called immunity serum–but if we already _have_ an immunity serum back in our world, something that protects the user from the call of Ethos, all we have to do is return and synthesize that concotion. Hand it over to our allies here so that they can help us make a move against Koboi."

Another stretch of silence followed, this time thoughtful for the most part. Except Vinyayá wasn't considering it.

"If your _allies_ are in war with Koboi, that is not our priority."

Artemis raised a testy eyebrow. "And if our allies are the only ones with a basic idea of how she can be stopped? Really, Wing Commander, I don't doubt that you are very perceptive. It can't have skipped past you. I rather think you have other reasons for not answering the question in regard to your immunity."

Vinyayà glowered at him, forehead in an impressive crease. Root and Short looked at her instead. She felt their gazes on hers.

The elf dropped her eyes and sighed. It was a losing battle, anyway, because her stance itself didn't feel right.

"Axithoflyn," she said, tonelessly. "Non-prescription painkiller. It's a..."

"A banned drug," finished Root numbly. The expression he wore was one of scarcely concealed astonishment. "But I...I don't get it. Why? _How?_ "

"I take it," explained Vinyayà, fighting the urge to keep her eyes stuck on the moon. "Alright? I've been on it for the past six years, and I continue to take it and that's why I'm immune to the creatures that got the rest of the LEP. Foaly tested the drug and it turned out in our favour. We were to put every field officer on it, but there was Council red tape and issues with getting the drug down straight from its plant- which was operating without a permit -right before Atlantis happened. It was futile in the end. Opal's freaks got our squadrons."

"They're...in Ethos?" For the first time in his career, Root looked absolutely stunned. This was without a doubt the worst progression of a bad situation into a right mess that he'd ever had to deal with. And that Vinyayà, his long-standing comrade and friend, had been on one of those accursed pills for the past six years, breaking the law every single time, was unbearable. It was about time he started shouting.

"Well, Fowl?" The Commander turned to bark at the Mud Man. "Are we going to go or stay?"

When Artemis shot him an irate look rather than answer, he was more than prepared to shout a second time, but his words were strangled in his throat because of something his eyes laid on. And after him, Vinyayà stared as well.

Holly's earlier sentiment that _everything_ on the island was worth looking at sprang back to mind. The placid, white reflection of the moon still glinted in the water and the horizon still rode a slow, choppy line. The sea breeze still puffed in their faces. The only thing that was new, however, was prominent, and lit up the entirety of the shoreline like iridescent glass shards that trapped a foamy blue light.

"Bioluminescence," explained Artemis, but even he couldn't ruin the magic of the moment. "Ostracods and plankton emiting bioluminescent light to scare away predators."

"Shut up, Mud Boy," whispered Holly, not sparing him so much as a sideways glance. "Just shut up."

* * *

Foaly hadn't taken his eyes off the dark, looming portal before the mothership even once since the Wing Commander had left. As predicted, there was no means of communication, and the standard tracking software installed in her pod's computers didn't broadcast a signal that he could pick up from his end of the spectrum. And he wasn't the only one biting his nails in apprehension; several techies were, too, but that was more for the fear of the other-worldly monsters making a reappearance than the safety of the LEP's last remaining senior officer. If Vinyayà was lost, he knew, he might as well surrender to Koboi now and spare them all a waste of energy. They would be shooting aimless in the dark. Their every move would be an unguided one, a potshot. And even though Foaly had complete confidence in his leadership skills when it came to the team of technicians, there was no way he could take charge of the LEP. No way he would fill in for Root or Vinyayà, or perhaps Ash Vein if the guy wasn't suffering unspeakable torment right now in the acidic, chilling backdrop of the Freaks' dreamland. No, the only ones left to take the reins was the Council. And Heaven only knew what ego-driven nitwit from some far-off division _they_ would appoint.

 _Besides, if anything happens to Vinyayà...Root will kill me._

He glanced over at his dimming screen. The message he'd sent around two hours ago was still confined to a slate-gray box, colour code for undelivered. It was a pointless hope anyway.

He stared back up at the portal. Its dark, ebbing currents waved right back at him.

The technical crew was almost gone now, and the wide cockpit area was almost empty. There was something about the silence that came off as disconcerting.

He glimpsed the screen again. Slate-gray.

There was no marine life around the portal. Foaly dully noted that animals did tend to skip around and avoid the dangerous unknowns whenever possible.

Slate-gray.

Two hours. The Wing Commander was either following a significant lead, or dead, or dying. Dying was unlikely, his thoughts rambled on. If she was in the shuttle-pod, that is. She could steer the thing around and come back. _Dead_ was a real possibility. If she was dead she couldn't steer the pod back.

That damned gray colour.

His official communicator buzzed for the fifth time in the past hour and he silenced it without a second thought. Sooner or later the Council would realize the futility of their calls and turn up bodily demanding to know what was going on.

His eyes flickered to the screen again, restless.

Light green.

 _Damn it, I shouldn't have let her in there. I've probably signed her death warrant and possibly that of the whole fairy civilization._

Foaly's eyes widened. Wait...light green?

He slammed his fists down on either side of the screen and bent his back in half out of the shock and eagerness while his eyes read from just three inches away from the text.

 _Foaly. On island. Root, Short here. Koboi possibility. KIT._

Communication! This was an A-grade _miracl_ e. Foaly hurriedly started tapping back a reply.

 _Bring em back W/Com. WNT._

He hit send. Field standard for Waste No Time, like Vinyayà had used field standard for Keep In Touch. But it turned out he was right after all- because the moment he looked up from the dashboard, towards the portal, his heart nearly stopped mid-beat.

His eyes expected to see the great hole of looming darkness before him. His eyes were disappointed with something much less, a smaller, shrinking hole, the black currents zapping from around it cackling, dying.

The sirens were alerted at once. The klaxons, they blared. The mothership, with its strong, creaky spool, started calling back the piton cable clipped to the Wing Commander's shuttle pod; but it was in vain. A foreboding sense of dread overcame him. Vinyayà was on the _island._

But with one incredible heave, the empty shuttle pod was yanked out of the confines of the portal's closing mouth as it cackled and sparked for the final time. And then the pod was back, safely tucked in the mothership's hatch, but the looming hole of pitch darkness did not exist anymore.

* * *

The whole group had met at their camping site from the night before- a lonely stretch of the black coast towards the northern part of the island. It wasn't a huge island, but it it wasn't particularly small either. Harpsichord boasted a native population of seven hundred as well as a tourist population of about two hundred per season, yet was quite full of unexplored and undiscovered locations on account of the fact that certain parts of the island were branded no trespassing zones for reasons unspecified...a deadly blackmarket for organ-trade and lava caves accommodated by the monsters of your nightmares; now they knew.

Holly found herself reasonably stunned by the end of her enquiry with regards as to what the other team had undergone. Testament to this shock was the human girl who appeared to be six years old shifting behind Caleb uneasily, not sure just what to make of her new environment. It was only after the swap of stories and a round of brief introductions for both the newcomers' sakes that the real issue at hand was brought forth.

"We can't take long to decide," Vinyayà gingerly crossed her arms over her newly-healed ribs; not with her own magic, but Holly's. "That doorway isn't going to stay open forever. Opal is bound to realize her mistake."

"Do you have a sample of this drug with you right now?" Artemis managed not to look perturbed at the impending threat from Koboi. If he was being perfectly honest with himself, he'd had quite enough of the maniacal pixie now to last a lifetime. He sat in an almost regal stance atop one of the glossy rocks near to the entrance of the pitched tent, which was at the moment more a source of lamplight than a lodging as they were all circled outside. Despite the deplorable condition of his shirt and trousers from a rough time's crawling along tunnels, the idea of sitting on the sand like everyone else was unthinkable.

Vinyayà shook her head. "We ordered several crates but none of them arrived before the Atlantis mission. I only had three pills with me back then and that's over now."

"There's nothing to it, then. You're going to have to go back- for a sample. It's all our allies need to get a clue about how Opal's Freaks are to be overcome. You _will_ be able to synthesize the drug once you have a sample, Caleb?"

The boy snorted. "We don't live in the stone age, Artemis."

"Your only vehicles are ox-drawn carts," Holly pointed out.

"That's a _different_ kind of stone age," Caleb rolled his eyes to the Heavens. "And yes, my mother has people capable of it. That's what we were planning to do with Opal's resistance serum, remember?"

"No time to waste," Vinyayà got right to her feet to emphasize this. "Foaly's just sent a message. I docked the shuttle not very far from here, just about..." Here she checked her wrist comp. "Fifteen minutes. I'll be back; don't relocate."

"We'll have to relocate if Opal happens upon us."

The elf considered this. "Leave a marker, then."

"Wing Commander," Root got to his feet as swiftly as was possible with all the half-healed injuries from before. "Frankly speaking it's stupid to venture out there on your own knowing Koboi's looking for us. I'll go with you."

Vinyayà raised an eyebrow, already well on her way. "I think, Root, that your current state would prove more a liability. No disrespect."

"None taken," grunted Root, who considered for just a moment before trudging after her nevertheless.

The nighttime had grown into the sky and soaked it so much in black ink that even the moon shone no more, but the spread of shimmering blue marine life in the waters and on the rocks provided all the illumination that night would otherwise miss. The journey to where Vinyayà's shuttle pod lay bobbing in the water was a fast-paced and guarded one, weary of Koboi or the calls from the Pathos monsters. But as the night wore on and their destination grew close, conversation found its way between the longtime comrades.

"These monsters of hers," began Vinyayà, ever curious. "What're they actually called?"

"Freaks," Root responded. "Frankly? I think that's just Caleb, but Fowl and Short seem to have picked on it too."

"Small world," Vinyayà looked at her device for the umpteenth time. "That's what the LEP calls them as well."

"Maybe it's the most appropriate term they could think of," Root shook his head, kicking off a spot of glittery black sand caught in his shoe's rim. "Most of my officers are infuriatingly childish, anyway."

They walked on in comfortable silence, but that wasn't to say they slowed in their pace or dropped their weary guard of Opal's creatures.

"Speaking of kids," said Vinyayà suddenly. "I didn't mention how my first night on this island went, did I?"

"No," and this time Root was curious, in spite of himself.

"Strangest thing, really. A tiff with a local at the marketplace and this bunch of kids- pixies and humans- offer me an empty stable of theirs."

"Kids?"

"Mm. I was starting to like having them around," the Wing Commander halted in her tracks, scanning the choppy horizon. The winds were a little faster now. The wrist-comp remained muted.

"There," she stated, making for the retreating shoreline. Wading into the fluorescent water with her sight determinedly set on the camouflaged pod, she looked almost like one of the mythical sea sirens from the days before Frond, known for their silvery manes and bright blue scales. Reconsidering this observation, Root snorted. That damn centaur's Riverbend classics were getting to him.

He didn't notice Vinyayà signalling him until her voice, strangled in the strong winds, cut through his head.

"It's not here."

"What?"

"The shuttle," she was already past waist level and swimming in the water now, a distance from shore. It was hard to make out what she was saying. "But the tracker didn't go off. It should be here."

Koboi. That was one possibility. She could have had it removed. Leave them no way back. Root was about to shout this theory into the wind, and that their presence here was a trap, but a sudden curse sliced through the still and peaceful night. And then a loud sound, like a draining sink, like a thinning hurricane, while the other elf disappeared completely from sight.

He stared with shocked eyes, momentarily too stunned to move. The calm was gone now. The quiet was shattered. The sea rose and lurched in panic, utterly disrupting its glittering surface and hurtling against the rocks.

Root was in the water before he knew it, cracked ribs forgotten, making a mad stroke for the uncertain spot he'd last seen the Wing Commander, but unlike hers his was not an LEP suit and provided no bearing, no protection from the stinging waves. His line of vision hastily shifted between a stark blue sea and the black air of night with occasional blackouts brought by the salt in his eyes. He breathed in water. Even his normally excellent swimming capabilities were of little use to him now because these were _no ordinary current_ s.

He was taken with the violent swirl of water and saw no more than the world in a blur, fast, scurrying. And then he picked up something other than the angry bubbling of the sea; beeping. Startled beeping like the machine itself was being strangled.

 _Wrist comp._

He grabbed out in one of the several similar directions and found nothing. Grabbed again. And again. It would have helped to have his vision at a time like this.

He wrangled again, and his fingers clutched like claws around a smaller, rough palm. Her weight became instantly obvious. Dead weight. Deader yet in the spitting currents.

But he yanked still, pulling her to him as he kicked against the spinning downward pull of the water. It didn't take him long to realize that Vinyayà was conscious. Conscious, but not doing a thing about her predicament.

He saw it. The eye of the cyclone. The fast-closing black portal.

Had the water allowed the pair to swear in some rather colourful Gnommish, that's exactly what they would have done right then.

* * *

The tents were exactly where they had left the rest of the crowd, pitched up and occupied but with dark interiors. Not a single light was on, but no evidence of a struggle was an assurance in that regard.

The sea was placid now, and the waves fluttered pulses in the gentle winds. Light radiated from the bioluminescence, making the black sand glisten like tiny stars under their feet. It was difficult to think that the very same sea had nearly killed them just moments before.

"Koboi really doesn't waste time," remarked Vinyayà sullenly, crousing her arms tightly in an attempt to ward off the cold. "Now we're going to have to go through with this key-hunting business, aren't we?"

Root shrugged. "Better than going back to Haven and finding the portal closed."

"I really don't know about that," the Wing Commander admitted. "For one, do you _trust_ Fowl? Or these mysterious allies of yours? From what the convict mentioned, she didn't even give a name."

"Fowl-" Root began, and paused. He mentally recounted the events of the previous days, the circus, his ideas. It would not be fair not to give the mud whelp the benefit of the doubt now. "Fowl has proven himself. At least in having the common intrest in getting out of this mess."

"Does Major Short think the same way?"

"She's very trusting, I'll give you that," he snorted. "But when it came to someone who's kidnapped her and held her for ransom, it would've taken an immense amount of proof before she decided to trust him. I trust Holly's judgement."

"And I trust yours," Vinyayà affirmed, and for the briefest of seconds their eyes met. Each stared back at years of experience on the battlefield in the common interests of the People. Years of trusted judgement. It wouldn't make sense to withdraw from that trust now.

When Root looked away he coughed a little suddenly into his fist. "I forgot to thank you. For earlier. That was...incredible, actually."

His longtime comrade raised an eyebrow. "Blindly rushing into battle with a gun?"

"Unorthodox strategies depend on the strategist."

Vinyayà's firm demeanor dropped just an instance. She smiled. "I have to thank you, too. I could've extracted myself from the situation, but I was in a little shock as it was. So...I appreciate it, I suppose."

Root could never have seen what came next. Vinyayà stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. It was the tiniest of contact, but it somehow managed to send the blood vessels in his face into overdrive, giving rise to that beetroot-like complexion famously associated with his short temper. Now, for the first time, it had an entirely different reason.

"Does this situation strike you as oddly familiar, though?" she asked, tone once again bussines-like, cutting through his flustered thoughts.

"The goblin rebellion," Root supplied at once, glad for the distraction. The idea had been playing in his head for some time. "We're cut out from Haven and it's all in Foaly's hands."

"He'll be able to handle it. He's had experience," the sentiment sounded more like she was reassuring herself.

"He's learnt a lesson or two," agreed Root, but his throat turned to sandpaper at a new thought. "But then so has Koboi."

* * *

The damp caves were damper than usual in the soft light of the fire torches on either side of the mirror.

Taking the mask off was a relief, even if the mask had been the only thing that had prevented today's situation from turning into a right royal mess. Kyre took a good look at her face in the cut-glass surface. Dark indents formed under her eyelids in the shape of the mask.

"You shouldn't wear that ridiculous thing when it's only us," came a neutral voice from the mouth of the cave, a short two meters away. Startled, the mask nearly jumped out of her hands. She swiftly tied it around the back of her head and turned to face the intruder.

He was leaning against the rock wall, a contemplative look on his twisted face. It was not an old face, not twisted with _ag_ e, but there was a malicious tint to the eyes and sharp angles to the cheeks in a way that was quite oddly...ominous.

"Regulations, your Highness." Kyre kept her voice straight. It wouldn't help her to sound insubordinate.

"Please, Lieutenant, we _make_ the rules," the tall man approached, and Kyre instinctively backed away at the look on his face. Was that supposed to be charming? She rather felt like prey being cornered, at the sneering jaws of the predator. He rather looked like the predator.

It would have probably been best to say _Of course, Master,_ but Kyre's sense of pride was not going to take so steep a drop. This was only an act after all. There was a limit to what she was going to pretend. So she said instead, in a voice that came out far icier than would benefit her, "I have contributed time and effort to the cause of Pathos, _Highness_. I may not be your equal in this case, but I am damn well deserving of some shred of respect."

The tall man froze. He had _never_ been on the receiving end of this attitude from his minors. No, that was usually handled to him by other elite members of the Pathos ruling class.

 _Signed my death warrant,_ thought Kyre soberly. _Why a changing room of all places?_

But scanning her with his dark eyes, the man finally only said in a lowly voice, "Quite a nerve you got there, Kyre." He suddenly cracked a maniacal grin. "I like it."

"Don't even _think_ about it," hissed the woman, not backing down now because her back was already against the sink rim. "You know what will happen if any other Pathos elites come to know of your tastes."

His expression changed a second and final time, and Kyre saved this up for future confrontations. A weak spot.

" _Quite a nerve,_ " he repeated, his glare pronounced but controlled. "Well. I will be seeing you at the appointed time. And not a second too late, Lieutenant."

He turned on his heel and she was on her own again and for that she was glad, infinitely so.

She turned back to the mirror and observed the mask's indents and her dark circles.

This day...this had been a bad day. Her dual-role was still unknown to Opal or her superiors, but _Caleb..._

She shook it all from her head, physically like the bitter memories would go away. If that elf female- and here she guessed, one that came from _their_ world - hadn't turned up, then her initial plan would've been put to action. It may have saved Artemis and Holly, but it would have definitely given away everything she had worked tirelessly for years on end to achieve ever since the rebellion.

 _That was too close._

But she was going to be questioned. Why submit to the enemy that easily? Why fail to protect Koboi for all she was worth?

 _Caleb needs to get the final key,_ she thought a little desperately as she exited the lit confines of the small cave and walked out onto the grainy beach. _How much longer can I delay them?_

And Pathos did not appreciate delay.

* * *

She met her superiors- Opal, the man with the tinted eyes and his throne-mate, a female with similar onyx beads and an unusually tall, authoritative figure - in the lava caves, candlelight flickering like water ripples across their faces. Opal and Kyre herself were the only ones standing, a clear hint as to what the power heirachy was here.

"Opal tells us that you weren't up to your usual standards today, Lieutenant," much as she wanted to pointedly avoid those eyes, it would not help her cause. The other woman was not the sort who tolerated dodging. "Is there an explanation that isn't going to lead to your demotion?"

Kyre stood on high alert, unblinking. "I was simply exerted after the last operation, your Majesty. Some injuries haven't healed yet."

The woman on the throne's eyes flickered in turn to Koboi. Her voice was a most displeased, flat tone. "And why could you not heal this human? You've risked critical failure. I don't take news of failure well, Opal."

"I did," it was a lie through the teeth, Kyre knew. Koboi hadn't completed the ritual in weeks.

The woman leaned back against her rock throne and sighed. "Our portals must still be interfering with fairy magic, then. I give you _one job,_ Vost..."

The male bristled. "You wouldn't have done a better job yourself, dearest cousin."

"In the next conquest I'll hand you something simpler, then," she shot back. "Something your tiny little brains can figure out. If they had _failed_ to retrieve the key because _you_ can't open a simple doorway without ruining things-"

"You are not in a position to give me orders in the first place, Esthre. You're lucky I followed them last time because fatherwas around."

His cousin treated him to an almost automatic hiss. " _Shut up._ Reveal no more." She turned to look back at Opal and Kyre, their mortal subjects, and her eyes narrowed at the look on the former's face. "What's that you're laughing about, Fairy?"

Koboi didn't repress her grin. "You're really _not_ top of Pathos then, are you?"

"Once you serve your purpose, pixie," promised Esthre in barely hidden impatience. "I will only give you two days to run. And then I will kill you."

Opal didn't look in the least bit fazed. Her motives were for herself, of course. She didn't care what this spoilt princess achieved in the process, and she didn't care what consequences her actions would bear later. Because by the end of it all, Opal Koboi would get her way.

Still she said, only mildly convincing, "I serve and I obey, Majesty. Jibes are just beyond me."

Esthre was violently tapping her fingers on her armrest. "And for that you will pay. Now what are we to do about our newfound enemies? Do you have a plan or do I have to hand that to you as well?"

Opal straightened somewhat. "Yes. They're too great a risk to set aside. They have to be eliminated aside the earliest possible opportunity, now on this island."

Kyre started. _No. They'll be in no state to defend themselves...especially if Vost gets involved._ "We'll get backtracked in our actual goal. We're on a serious time restraint, are we not?"

"If we don't kill them _now_ , trusty Lieutenant," said Opal testily. "There will be interruptions from them in the _future._ This is about the best chance we'll get."

"But how do we know they're still on the island?" protested Kyre. "After the scare we gave them, they are probably far away from here and closer to the third key by now. It's what I would do in their position. That way they can beat us without even having to face us."

Opal was fuming by the end of this argument. "They need to be dealt with strong and harsh. We won't have to _race them_ if we kill them first."

"And if they're already out of our reach, heading for the third key, they have a headstart. We need to hurry up. Bether safe than sorry."

" _Ladies_ ," Vost snapped his fingers. And when a wealthy, powerful prince of a nightmare world calls for attention, attention is always paid. The cavern descended into silence. Even Esthre leaned back in her throne, gaze trained intently on her cousin.

"We have a simple solution to our problem," continued the prince. "And a solution that doesn't compromise on our goal in the first place. The key is the driving factor here. We want it, they want it, and it is all that we should focus on. But I don't doubt our adversaries' threat," he looked towards Opal. "It's enough if we engage our little pets in dealing with them."

Opal was practically fuming, though she could afford to show no disagreement. "They have one who is immune to the Freaks, Highness."

Vost cracked a cynical grin. "My dear fairy, do you really think that the Freaks are the _only_ weapons at our disposal?"

* * *

It was about another hour and a half later that the Council sent its representatives, bodily, to apprehend the centaur who had by now evaded their efforts to reach him no less than fifteen times. The worst of surprises came when Foaly, moping and feeling like a sack of troll dung, bumped into said representatives just as they entered the docking-bay in Police Plaza.

 _My day is going great. Fabulous. Never had a better day._

"Is there anything I can help you gentlemen with?" he inquired in a less-than-delighted tone that arose by itself.

"The Council is detaining you," said one of the two, a short, stocky gnome with beefed muscles. "You've been summoned to the premises."

"Detainment in the Council building," sighed Foaly. "Lovely. I am positively buoyant. Say, they serve up warm face-towels for new detainees, don't they?"

The stocky gnome's partner, a pixie with barrel-sized fists, held out a slim pair of handcuffs with a scowl.

"Oh," went Foaly, attitude evaporating. " _That_ kind of detainment."

Seeing as the Council building was located a couple of blocks away from Police Plaza, Foaly very soon found himself seated upon a flat metal bar in a bland white room with a two-way mirror.

 _That mirror is just overdoing it. What am I, a criminal?_

Apparently not picking up your phone was a federal offense.

A white door that had seamlessly blended in with the walls was pushed open, allowing Cahartez, Rodent and the beefy gnome from before to enter. The door pinged dramatically behind them.

 _I designed that door,_ reflected Foaly in a moment's happiness. _Temperature regulator, smart sound, machine learning algorithm to remember who enters and at what time._

The centaur straightened in his bench made for two-leggers, then thought twice and stood on all fours. "I have my explanation ready."

"This had better be good," said Rodent with a threatening air, taking his place on the bench opposite. Cahartez and the beefy gnome chose to stand.

"After the evacuation was carried out, the techies noticed a kind of portal in close proximity to Atlantis, which the Freaks had very likely come from. But portals are rare, and there was no saying how long it would stay open, so Commander Vinyayà decided there was no time to seek Council permission. Also, she said that this was a solo job and insisted on going alone."

Rodent's high eyebrow twitched. "And she had to be the one to do it, eh? The acting Commander has clearly underestimated the value of her position, and that is going to cost us dearly."

Foaly scowled. "In all due respect, _Rodent_ , she played her role impressively well considering all the new strains of this situation. And she did not want to risk the lives of the few officers we have left."

" _Their_ lives, by Frond!" thundered the outspoken Councilman. " _They_ are positions that can be replaced, centaur. But the role of a leader during a mess such as this- it is _not_ a small gap to fill."

"Rodent, please," Cahartez held up a hand. He addressed Foaly. "But we _have_ filled that gap, on assumption that something was wrong, and you will have to work with the new acting Commander to the best of your abilities."

Something was amiss in the Chairman's words. "Of course I'll work with him. What's the catch?"

The beefy gnome chuckled, his first verbal input since the session began. Clapping Foaly heftily on the shoulder, he replied with a half-grin, "You'll figure that out soon enough, centaur."

* * *

Foaly entered the main LEP building to find it eerily lacking of activity or the constant crowds, and even the normally long lines of new convicts ended abnormally abruptly today. It all served as a painful reminder of the events of the past few days that had escalated from a mess to a disaser to a total catastrophe.

 _It's like the Freaks got to everyone._

And then:

 _Don't think that. NEVER think that._

But these dramatics had never before been so justified. Two of the LEP's most formidable leaders were gone, as were all the other leaders besides in one fell swoop. That was precisely the problem. No one left to lead but the Council, and whatever utterly inefficient replacements they had fixed.

Foaly halted in his tracks as a thought occurred to him.

 _Come now, you're just being ominous. We didn't lose everyone in the Atlantis mission. So where is everyone we didn't lose?_

He walked past several deserted cubicles, bafflement growing with each step.

 _There's something terribly wrong._

Foaly rounded the empty corner that turned into the central meeting room. There were sounds coming from within. To the struggling rational part of his mind it sounded like talking.

Foaly barged into the room, only to be greeted with a flurry of heads turning in his direction looking surprised. The centaur regarded these faces before breathing a sigh of relief.

Someone at the head of the room, who was probably in charge of this huge gathering and the emptiness of the building, snapped his fingers for attention.

"As I was saying, officers, at this time of unforeseen chaos...is that Mr Foaly?"

Foaly figured in an instant that this must be the Council's Commander-elect.

"Reporting," he clarified, raising a hand.

"Would you care to explain to everyone in the room what became of the previous acting Commander?" asked the new one with accusing air.

Foaly's expression dropped into a scowl. He couldn't even see the guy, but he disliked him already.

"A mission went awry. A _necessary_ mission."

"A mission that did not gain Council approval," snickered the newcomer. "You and Wing Commander Vinyayá are both at fault. Nobody but yourselves can be blamed that the mission was unsuccessful."

Foaly stamped a hoof in indignation, causing the crowd of officers nearest to him to jump aside. "So you're one of _those_ types. Council suck-ups. Let's not blame the Wing Commander. She got us further than the Council did in this crisis."

Foaly actually heard this insolent nitwit click his tongue. "Ah yes, the banned drug. Was it _her_ recommendation?"

He did not walk into the trap. Saying yes would testify Vinyayà's illegitimate drug usage rather than bolster her credibility. "It was mine, after we acquired one of the creatures. Purely scientific assumption."

"Regardless," the new Commander waved his hand dismissively, and at last Foaly caught a glimpse through the crowd. "We will discontinue the drug. It isn't helping our officers."

The centaur's jaw dropped open, down to the floor. "It makes us _immun_ e. It's our only _defens_ e."

"It is banned because it does more harm than good," Ark Sool pointed his trademark cane chidingly in Foaly's direction. "At it will stay banned because we don't want black markets booming with the LEP's money. We tackle this enemy like we've always done, with some good guns and good leadership."

The centaur was shaking his head rapidly even before this speech was done with. "No, no, no. The Freaks- _Opal's_ Freaks- are a different kind of danger. You can't fight them any other way."

It was either centaur or gnome who'd jinxed the relative peace, because at that instant an emergency klaxon started blaring from some part of the building.

Sool was actually enjoying this. "Looks like we're about to find out."

* * *

 **Dawn.**

It was a greater relief than words could express when their band of seven set out of the island on the rickety ferry service of before, but even as the peaks of the turquoise landmass bathed yellow in the morning light faded into the distance Holly could not shake off the feeling of the Freak's claws on her midriff and the gentle lure of Ethos, which rang in her ears like the song of sirens. She tried to distract herself with other things. The cool sea breeze, for instance, or the roll of the water under the thin planks of the vessel. Sensations she might never get to live again.

 _After this adventure it's back to Haven, and back to a desk job without surface missions. I'm going to miss even those tight lava tunnels._

Holly had experience before how Ethos could be crafty with its traps. All it needed to do now was take up the shape of this island with the bioluminescent seas, and her logical side would die out. She would _yearn_ for Ethos, the pristine world above ground.

She shook this disturbing thought to focus on the people instead. There were only two unfamiliar passengers with them on the ferry and a crew of five including the driver. Mulch was wheedling something out of his thick beard hairs for a snack while chatting animatedly in a supreme effort to cheer Caleb up, because the boy had been in a depressed state ever since having to leave Sona in the care of some kindly villagers who promised to trace her parents. It would be better for the girl, they had all decided. The journey ahead was getting perilous already. Now Zone was watching the island, hawk-like, from the boat's rear railing. Root and Vinyayà sat side-by-side, discussing some matter or the other relating to business. Not that she was eavesdropping, but Holly couldn't help but notice the moments that passed between the two. It was infrequent and slight when it happened, but for someone who'd made a bet on the poll it was instantly visible.

"The officers would've made some interesting bets about it, I presume?"

Holly would've jumped if she wasn't by now accustomed to the Mud Man's scares. Artemis was seated relaxedly on the bench- _plank_ , more like- beside her, eyes wandering over the horizon rather than the feature of Holly's own attention. Going on that safe route, she too looked out across at the dawn sky.

"Yeah. A lot of ingots going on about that."

Artemis cocked an eyebrow. "And you? What did you bet on?"

Holly fought back a grin, but it surfaced anyway. "Oh, just _look_ at them, Fowl. I would be an idiot not to bet that they have a thing going on. I don't normallyparticipate in office bets, but this one guarantees a fortune. You wouldn't believe how many ingots Foaly's put in."

Artemis laughed. "Small wonder the Commander isn't overly fond of betting."

Holly snickered. "He has no idea, actually."

"Is that so? And the Wing Commander?"

"She's perceptive. Sharp. She's never _said_ anything about it before, but then again nobody dares to bring it up in her presence."

"I would think not. She took down ten of Opal's Freaks."

A wave crested suddenly under the ferry, bumping the passengers momentarily off their seats. Holly caught ahold of herself, but Artemis nearly stumbled to the deck and Mulch _did_ stumble to the deck, having been too engrossed in his beard-snacks in the second before.

This at last made Caleb laugh.

"Real funny, Mud Boy," grunted the dwarf, clambering to both feet. "Real funny."

The sea turned placid once again, reflecting the red streaks of the rising sun's sky. Root said something and the Wing Commander actually laughed. Spirits, it would seem, were high again with their group.

Mulch, back in his seat, raised an eyebrow at this uncommon behaviour.

"It's not my fall you're laughing about, is it, Julius?"

Root treated him to a scowl that often sent the strongest of LEP men cowering behind a larger guy. "Much as you are are comic relief, Diggums, it would do you well to shut up this whole ride."

"Why?" gasped Mulch in horror. "Getting in the way of your romances, am I?"

If Root had a gun he would've fired it. " _Diggums..._ "

But he had no gun, and so the dwarf had here the opportunity of a lifetime. "Y'know, I always wondered why the LEP was so easy to escape. Remember the good ol' days when I was new to a life of crime, and you were new to the force and stuff? You used to tag me like a magnet. Except I was _always_ smarter."

"There he goes," murmured Holly, an amused glint in her eye. "The chatter that's going to get him killed someday."

It seemed to be working, because Root was now in the mood for a shouting match.

"Oh, really, Diggums? Selling your stolen goods to undercover agents? Walking right into police search-zones? Forgive me if I'm not wooed by what a _genius_ you are."

Mulch snorted offhandedly. "Little blips. Not as much as when your officers run past me within a hair's breadth during these so-called _searche_ s. The only stench you've ever been following is the sewers."

Root crossed his arms scornfully. "Oh, but that can be excused, seeing as you smell so much like those sewers yourself."

"Exactly," bowed Mulch courteously. "I am a master of deception."

"It's your natural stink, Diggums!"

Holly directed her gaze back at the sky to prevent an embarrassing outburst of laughter. Artemis joined her again in looking upwards, where the clouds had bled vermillion and giant gulls now cawed in circles.

"I'm going to miss this," blurted the elf, forgetting to consider what smart remark the human would put forth in response. "Even the danger. It's no fun at all in the LEP anymore, not for me."

Surprisingly, Artemis didn't have a sarky comeback for that. Instead she heard him shift slightly and clarify, "Fewer surface missions?"

Holly closed her eyes, hoping to not let any emotion come out with her voice. "Very few. It might be another...oh, I don't know, ten years before the next one comes along. Ritual visits are too short to count."

There was silence for a while, except for the boat's talking/quarrelling occupants which now encompassed Caleb, Zone and Vinyayà. Artemis shifted again, uncomfortably it seemed, and coughed into a fist.

"I cannot possibly fathom how you feel, Holly, but if it's any help, you're welcome to Fowl Manor anytime you like. Prolong your ritual visits."

This offer was so surprising that Holly snapped away from the sky and looked at him.

"Is that Artemis Fowl I hear talking? What's happened to you?"

The Mud Man acknowledged her incredulity with a shrug. "I am a changed individual, Holly. You know about my environmental projects. I don't always do it for the fortune. I would reap a fortune in a million other ways if I didn't care about the planet."

Holly for a moment remembered how she had felt the first time she'd heard, via Foaly, about Fowl's rainforest conservation budget, a whopping amount even in the young millionare's standads. Amazed. Suddenly willing to forgive and forget the human's past misdeeds.

"Know something, Fowl?" She treated him to a frank look. "Back then, six years ago, when Foaly was wiring up his mind-wipe machine, I told him that maybe it was the wrong thing to do. That you'd go back to being that monster who was willing to exploit a species for profit. But you didn't really need our influence to become a better person, did you?"

"I'm not a better person, Holly," Artemis looked directly at her as he said it. "A changed individual, with different priorities, but by no means a better person. Have I entirely surrendered my criminal ways? No. And I don't belive I ever will, either. The only thing that has changed is my objective. My intentions, for the most part, and my deeds, all of them, remain the same."

The elf did not break his gaze, strangely not experiencing ice creeping up her spine at his tone of voice. "And are you proud of keeping that constant, Fowl?"

Artemis's demeanor did not shake. "Most of the time. If for the People's influence, perhaps, it would be all the time."

Each held the other's stare a while longer, until at last Holly broke off with a puff of breath, crossing her legs on the bench and inquiring testily, "Criminal activities for the _greater good,_ right _?_ "

"Mostly," replied Fowl, and he almost couldn't hide a grin.

* * *

 **A/N; Enjoyed the break from action? Don't worry, no more big b** **reaks in this story! *gleeful rubbing of hands***

 **Coming up next; There are worse things out there than Freaks- and the easy part of the mission is done with.**


	12. Chapter 12: Unto the Breach We Go

**Author's Note; RAPT ATTENTION, DEAR READER! Explanations about Pathos, some Foaly moments and answers to many of your questions are going to come out in this chapter.** **I** _ **strongly**_ **advise against skipping paragraphs. As for my month long absence, exams happened (which accounts for about four weeks) and I lost my notes for this story- which accounts for the additional delay. I just put up a Rogue One fic (K2 being an inopportune but lovable jerk, rebelCaptain FTW, appreciating Bodhi, the aftermath of Scarif, that kinda thing) recently, but I'm not losing focus on KTE. I'm just going to find a way to multitask.**

 **And once again, I cannot thank you enough for sticking with the story so far. The climax is drawing closer and I won't let you down!**

* * *

 **AF: Key to Ethos | Part Two**

—•:;*"~€/°&^]—

CHAPTER TWELVE: UNTO THE BREACH WE GO

The kingdom had never been a bright place for Vost Medalen. And he liked it that way. He liked the storm clouds that often congregated over the tall pikes of the buildings, and he liked the stagnant colour of the pavement bricks. He liked that the trees contoured in wicked angles and that the sun glistened like an evil eye over the mountains at dawn. Pathos had never seen a summer day in all of two centuries and the air was heavy with cold moisture, which was the way the people liked it.

The people, though...that was the part Vost wasn't overly fond of.

The people of his father's kingdom dressed in black apparel some days, white on others, gray if feeling creative and thus never contrasted the kingdom's own theme of dark and dull and monochrome. The elite walked in cloaks woven of black fathers. The hide of a gray wolf, sometimes, face contorted like the animal's dying breath had been a shuddering one, and this was the epitome of power and strength in the shadowy world of Pathos. Dead birds, dead wolves, the ghastly colours of death in general. And their expectations, gosh. Their expectations for their prince! To make a conquest, a great one. To conquer another world that they could touch with death and turn gray, white and black.

Monsters walked among them. Monsters in the King's reserve. The Freaks. The very icon of certain death.

On that particular day the prince of this sordid place had just exited another boorish conference with the so-called elites when he was asked to report to his father's chambers at once.

Vost did not like his father.

But he'd gone nonetheless, only to find his spoilt girl cousin, Esthre, lounging delightedly on his father's throne.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he'd thundered.

Esthre, looking down at him with a mocking gleam in both stark eyes, had sweetly replied, "I came with a proposition, dear cousin."

"Proposition?" Vost had repeated in an obvious suspecting way.

And that day their conquest had begun, for the glory of all Pathos. A shady conquest whose details were for the most part buried, but one order had been given to Vost only by the king: _follow her_.

Vost suspected that his father was making an opportunity to pretend he had the daughter he'd always wanted. Esthre had always been his favourite.

The window to their conquest was such: the ruler of Logos, a grand and prosperous civilization, was having trouble with a bunch of citizens rebelling against the (honestly oppressive) government. Esthre had arrived on scene in a procession of her proud colours; black, white and gray, and negotiated a contract with Queen Koboi.

Queen Koboi was to lend them her armies, and they were to lend her their monsters.

Together they would conquer all the world around Logos, the settlements and wasted land that held out stubbornly against the glorious civilization, and when the Pathos descended to claim their new world Koboi's people would be honoured. Those who resisted would become slaves. It was to be that simple.

But then the rebels seized the keys of Logos and had them scattered in uncharted locations.

There would be no conquest if the capital city of Logos couldn't be used as a center. There was no access to the armies who were trapped within that city. Koboi had very few people outside the gates.

The motive now was to get into the city and get the armies. Then all would proceed as previously planned.

Things got a tad more complicated, though, for Vost. Esthre was playing the role of his father's dutiful daughter with dedication. She was keeping the old man notified of everything and claiming credit even for the good work she had not accomplished on her own. This was something Vost could live with- it was the spoilt princess's nature, after all, and she'd been that way since birth. But there were _other things_ concerning which his cousin just became a rat. She held this ratting over him like blackmail; defy me once, Medalen, and your dad and the whole of Pathos is going to know about your _sinful_ fantasies.

He couldn't be blamed, not really. He disliked the people of Pathos. He disliked even more the elite classes. So when he had come into contact with people of the worlds _outside_ of Pathos, it had just been...

Yes, he'd grown to like them. Yes, he'd started to fall in love, with the people, with their ways, with their cultures that weren't gray or dark or cloudy. And standing out against this pleasant background, representing everything he prefered of this world over Pathos, was Kyre Legend.

Did he want this beautiful world turning into a ghastly realm for ghastly people? No. But this was his first conquest, and he did not desire in the least bit to fail. The beauty and colours would have to be sacrificed for the greater glory of his cause, and to prove to his father that what the old man needed was a capable son, not a perfectly spoilt princess daughter.

Today Vost had the most dangerous mission of all. To return to Pathos and have a word with the elite class, that is...

* * *

Foaly refused to believe it. Here was a disastrous, potentially cataclysmic emergency signal, and Sool was looking giddy about it. The usurper was actually doing a sort of happy dance around the podium now.

"Just on time," the acting Commander clapped his hands in delight. "A chance to show the LEP the leadership it _really_ needs."

"I cannot believe your guts," gaped Foaly, but the officers in the room were already on their hasty way out with only Sool's dubious word to guide them. Knowing there was no point in his hanging around anymore, Foaly also turned on a hoof and stomped out with the crowd. He paused momentarily at the doorway, wondering if there was a chance he could convince Sool that the drug was needed, but one look at the prudent gnome's face told him that there was no point trying.

The pompous idiot was sending all that remained of the LEP's forces into their eventual eternal naps, condemning them all to a comma in the real world and all forms of unimaginable agony in that nightmare world with the green skies and acid pits. Even after Vinyayá's fatal assumption that the reinforcement of the ships would protect them from the Freaks' noises, had nobody learned a lesson? The officers would report to him, then, surely? Asking for the drug that would prevent their fates?

Sirens still blaring, Foaly cut his way through the corridors with a speed he had never before possessed. He was panting by the time he rounded the corner to his Ops booth where, sure enough, a crowd of officers were gathered in full gear, ready for battle in every angle except one.

"The resistance pill, Foaly," Corporal Raynes explained as soon as the centaur was back to breathing normally. That a mere Corporal was in charge of this group itself was extremely worrying- it only meant that no seniors were left. "We saw what happened with the Wing Commander's fleet. It would be suicide to venture out there without it."

"Where?" Foaly wheezed. "Which part of Haven are they attacking?"

Raynes had a look of well concealed dread in his eyes that did not carry with his voice. "The Shallows, sir. Near the chute at Tara."

Time seemed to freeze for him.

The Shallows...Tara...the _closest_ region of their underground civilization to the surface, to the human world. Those areas were normally high-security zones even during the tourist seasons, and its residents were of the highest class among the People. But an attack targeted specifically at this zone so close to the surface world...

If _anything_ left that zone, it would emerge on the Mud Men's side of the planet. And it would give away everything that the People had spent centuries working to conceal.

"Go," Foaly said, almost quietly. "Get going. Barricade every path that leads to the surface. I'll have the pills sent. Soon."

Raynes and the others murmured their agreement, that right now no time could be wasted even if it meant confirming their safety, and Foaly soon found the entrance to his Ops booth deserted. Brave fairies, they were. It gave him some faith that the LEP had not entirely lost its way, no matter who was in charge now.

All those lives. Too great a sacrifice. He needed to get the resistance drug to them before the Freaks triumphed entirely.

Ark Sool stopped on his way past the booth. Foaly glared daggers at him.

 _What have you done?_

Sool's grin answered the rhetorical question. _Banned those accursed drugs you had ordered from that unregistered source. The LEP will not be siding with criminals to win their battles. My leadership is all they need._

And then he was gone too, but Foaly half wished it would be the last time he saw the hateful gnome.

He turned to his screens and rubbed circles in his temples.

"I know you didn't have time to destroy the pills we got down," he said out loud. "So where did you tuck them away, _Commander_ Sool?"

The feed from his cameras told him nothing, and time was ticking on.

"The Council building?"

No. No big red crates.

"The old wing?"

Nada.

"Maybe you had it sent to someone who'd rid of them for you." Foaly buried his face in his hands and stared up at his screens despairingly. What was he to do now? Place another order? It would take another day. Another fatal delay. And he certainly couldn't synthesise the drug himself in quantities that would befit the number of officers in so little time.

Calling on the drug for protection was not an option anymore.

 _But Vinyayá tried_. _The Freaks' noise can get through anyth-_

"Holy Frond," breathed the centaur as it hit him.

Then: "I really deserve more pay for my brilliant ideas."

* * *

Foaly drove into his posh suburban homefront with the velocity of a drunken maniac, didn't even switch off the engines or shut the door when he scrambled out of his new van and dashed for the door of his house.

He rapped at it several times before remembering the bell and slamming that button instead. And he continued to nearly mutilate the lacquered sim-timber up until it was pulled open with a violent jolt and a gun was pointed in his face.

He blinked down the end of the barrel.

Caballine slowly lowered the weapon, a look of confusion sweeping over her fine features.

"Don't assault my door next time," she said. "Only assassins assault doors, and I quite reasonably thought you were one."

"I need your help," breathed Foaly, letting himself enter the house hastily. "The Freaks are at the Shallows and-"

"Is that your new van? Dear Frond, it looks like something a troll spat out."

Foaly grabbed his wife by the shoulders. "Caballine, love, I _really_ need your help."

The female centaur shook herself out of it and paid attention. "What happened?"

Foaly was already steering her in the direction of the basement where he kept his pet projects, the front door still open. "Freaks. Shallows. Sool confiscated the pills, so our only defense is-"

"We could build a super-vacuum," Caballine suggested, flipping her long hair over a shoulder because she couldn't free her hands to do so.

Foaly halted in is tracks. "It took me a long while to realize that. Did you...did you figure that out just now? In an instant?"

His wife looked at him strangely. "It was a little obvious from the start, but I didn't mention it because the pills were a better option."

"I love you," said Foaly, for a split second looking utterly lovestruck, before shaking himself and trotting at double-speed down the basement steps, his startled wife in tow.

* * *

The underground city's closest region to the surface, the _shallowest,_ as it were, was a high security zone for a few infinitely simple reasons. The first being the probability of rogue fairies, as access to the surface was a mere service-shuttle ride away. There were sometimes whole bunches of them donned in cam foil trying to sneak into one of the shuttles that only flew to service the chute, to seal and shield it over and over again so that not the slightest passage connecting Haven to the surface was accessible from below or above ground. The second reason for this security was the probability of Mud Men, or even a single Mud Man, accidentally stumbling across a pasage that was somehow not sealed adequately and chancing upon the fairy city. Their orders in this instance were simple- stun, wipe and relocate. Preferably to some remote corner of the globe that would not help said Mud Man even if he did recover his memories. The third reason was that the Shallows held a community of Haven's most highly prolific, meaning Councilmen, hugely successful businessmen and members of elite bloodlines from the days of Frond. These individuals, especially the bloodline ones, constantly fretted about their lives being under threat from vengeful distant cousins, and so the LEP's batch in the Shallows were bound by area-rule to listen to these frettings.

And of course the tourists, the final reason. During a full moon the singular shuttleport here would be packed and brimming with civilian fairies wanting to go moon-mad and perform the ritual, so the officers had to keep wary eyes out for opportunists going rogue or signs of Mud Men while the tourists had their picnics and flounced by the scared oaks.

Understandably, the Shallows operation force were a no-nonsense bunch. But that was in the face of problems they were prepared to deal with.

The evacuations were happening fast, but not fast enough. Residents scuttled out of their homes urged on by LEP officers, but the _things_ still advanced at snail pace through the streets towards them. They were making no noise yet, thank Frond. They were giving everybody enough time to escape.

"More Freaks up North!" yelled a distant voice over the sound of faint gunfire, coming from the direction of the shuttleport, two rockfaces high.

More gunfire. Blasts. Explosions went off on the streets where the Freaks advanced, momentarily halting their progress, but this did not seem to faze them in the slightest.

Residents piled up inside shuttles brought there for evacaution. Other shuttles, comandeered by LEP corporals, took to panicked scans of the roof of the Shallows, the thin crust of Earth separating Haven from the surface. There were no Freaks at the roof yet. But there were large numbers at the shuttleport, appeared from nowhere, starting to screech their noises and knock officers off into agonized sleep. The Freaks leapt on long, shrivelled limbs to the roof, clinging on upside-down, crawling on all fours while their necks twisted the whole three-sixty degrees in seach of a passage to the surface. Some were huge. Massive. If not for the dotted black colour of their torsos and limbs they could have blended in with the rocks they bounded off, camouflage, yet another advantage they held over the near-defeated LEP.

"This chaos is unnecessary," Sool sneered from his place behind a barricade set up at the gates, which the Freaks had headed well away from. He barked into the central communications mic on his lapel. "Get everything back under control, Corporals! You are in charge of this operation and you aren't doing very good at it!"

Another line went dead for his ears to hear. Another victim. "Bless your soul," muttered Sool, and went back to his commanding.

Everything was a mess. Fires. Miniature explosions. Evacuating shuttles. Freaks on the cavern roof like spider-monkeys, scratching at the rock hoping to discover tunnels leading to the surface, all the while screeching animalistic noises that pushed back any impressions that these beings were sentient.

Sool was a good distance away from most of the action, which was largely accumulated in the immediate vicinity of the shuttleport. Freaks leapt on the hangars and swung onto the building's roof tiles. Some of the animals crept into the port itself. Shadows moved with rapidity behind the glass walls and shots rattled at the windows continually.

Commander Ark Sool valued his life above rushing into the port and attempting to save the officers who fought the enemy in there. But it _was_ his duty to plan a way out of this mess and guide those officers- Sool started to wonder what could be done. How the so-called _Freaks_ could effectively be driven back...

He got to think no further on that line because one of the larger monsters dropped from the cavern ceiling and landed on all fours right before him.

It met his gaze with depthless sockets and let loose the most soul-wrenching of shrieks from between wide open canine jaws.

" _D'ARVIT!_ " Sool's neutrino was out in an instant and firing. The Freak broke from its noise to receive the blasts to its jaw and snapped back to look at the acting Commander, who had suddenly stopped firing.

" _D'Arvit,_ " breathed Sool, inching a step back, clutching still onto his pretty much pointless blaster.

The Freak snarled, peering at him with a bend of its flexible neck. Its front canines dripped a congealing substance of the most vomit-inducing stench.

Commander Ark Sool was not a fearful individual. If anything he was the smartest, and most level-headed, rational, responsible member of the group of clots he was in charge of.

Staring certain death in the face can change that about a person.

And his limbs were frozen. In a state of painful paralysis except for sweat-sodden fingertips that shook like a bicycle's jittery cable.

The thickly salivating canines were inches away from his face. He was inches away from certain death or worse.

He understood in that moment more than ever before exactly why these creatures were called Freaks. Abnormally long arms and legs, disproportionate, that bent at joints in several places to look spider-like. Humanoid when they stood. Gnarled torsos. Featureless faces that bore flesh wounds rimmed in black blood, like the injuries they acquired were merely that- acquired, never _suffered_. Dark pits as eyes. He would bear this image in mind for the rest of his days, he knew, if his days on this planet didn't end right now.

A stray blast from an unknown officer's neutrino struck the Freak's jaw, displacing it, sending the monster's neck turning away from the rest of its body.

Sool was quick to scramble to his feet and attempt another shot with his own gun. A single burst of short-circuiting fire managed to graze the creature's forehead. Other than that it did nothing, and the gun was smoking.

Spraining his ankle in the process he ran. The Freak snarled, a bloodcurdling chill threatened to freeze his legs, and it pursued on four limbs.

He was making a stumbling run for the neighbourhood's defining boundary, the one that set the Shallows apart from the rest of the city. He was seeing disoriented shapes, fairies, scrambling about at work. Not with guns. Something else was happening.

A single jaw- an upper jaw- latched onto and pinned his left leg to the ground.

Sool grunted as his head hit the mud and his world threatened to go blank. The Freak removed its jaw and reached for him with its front limbs. It suspended its torso above him. It brought its canines closer to his ear.

A bout of blaster fire first unlatched the monster and then sent it skidding across the road, shrieking, limbs everywhere.

"What's going on?" Sool heard himself say. "What the hell is happening?"

A hand that looked a little familiar grabbed his elbow and forced him to his feet. "Get our officers out of the buildings, Sool," said Foaly's voice, serious, threatening. "Tell them to assemble outside the neighbourhood. I'll get this situation under control."

The acting Commander couldn't find the energy to argue or even to doubt the centaur. He just snatched the comlink that was being offered to him and barked Foaly's orders into it.

"All remaining units, this is your Commander. Assemble at the boundary. Do not stay back."

"Thank you," Foaly snatched back his comlink. "Now get the hell out of my way. It's about time you started listening to the people Root listened to."

Foaly noted with relief that every remaining officer was obeying the order and assembling outside the township's gates. Residents left conscious were following them. Soon enough Freaks and dead-to-the-world bodies were the only things remaining within the boundary, but it wouldn't be that way forever.

Himself stepping outside the boundary lined with shielding devices his technical team had placed, he hurried over to the control board and flicked the switches that needed to be flicked. Shield up, first. There were Freaks that rushed at the transparent walls but hit it and never made a step beyond them. They clawed and hissed against it. The forcefield held strong.

"Place the vacuum," Foaly called to his staff. Nobody responded immediately. The vacuum had to be placed on top of the forcefield and it had to penetrate. The forcefield couldn't be scaled. How was that going to be accomplished?

A crane from somewhere in the vicinity rolled past the throngs of security and technical personnel, earning baffled looks from everyone. Foaly himself looked impressed. The crane held his Inhaler several feet off the ground and was making for the forcefield.

The shield in no way was meant to contain the Freaks' cries, though, and the piercing screams started at once. The animalistic screeches that induced fear like an intoxicant. Officers were starting to back away. A resident collapsed onto the ground, taken by Ethos. Sool looked his way and threatened to explode.

The construction work machine placed and fixed the Inhaler, a huge cylindrical body of mechanical parts and a hollow middle, at the top of the forcefield. Foaly only ignored Sool's glare and the chaos unfurling inside his forcefield as well as around it. Biting his lip, he took the risk. The forcefield started to shrink back into its generators.

As soon as the inhaler was immersed halfway he hit the activation button again and the shield was up before any one of the spider-like creatures could make a spring for the outside world. He pushed aside the crushing pain of the Freaks' cries as he remotely turned up the rate of the Inhaler. It would suck out all air inside the forcefield. His super vacuum would render them all deaf to the chilling chorus of Ethos and possibly cause the monsters to suffocate. The latter was a remote chance. He had doubts that those creatures breathed the same way as everyone else.

The noise stopped ringing in their ears. The Freaks were still clawing, trying to make their way out, but nobody was hearing a thing. The silence was eerie but not unwelcome knowing what it protected them from.

Foaly looked up to congratulate the crane driver and maybe even offer the guy a pay rise, but said driver grinned his way and the words died down in his throat.

 _You're welcome,_ Caballine mouthed cheekily, relaxing the best she could against the seat not meant for centaurs.

* * *

The ship touched down at a rather welcoming harbour considering all the desolate scenery they had been through for most part of the journey. The was a comparatively lively environment where vendors were working their strategies on exhausted travelers and music was emanating from souvenir shops and bars. Mulch's proposition that they stop over for a _snack_ was thus accepted without much debate.

Caleb gulped down the last of his goat milk and laid flat the details of their final and most important search.

"We don't know where it is."

Everyone at the table, Zone and Mulch excluded, looked at him either disbelievingly or very unamusedly. Zone was hardly known for complicated facial expressions, and Mulch was engrossed in his greasy meal of chicken thighs.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Holly attempted to clarify. "We travelled this far by ship not knowing where we were supposed to go?"

"We _are_ supposed to be _here_ ," Caleb corrected. "The third key is somewhere in this area. The problem is that we have absolutely no clue where, and this area is at least twice the size of Harpsichord Island. Also it's _infested_ with Opal's people. They've occupied most of it and most of the cities here consider her their leader. It isn't going to be easy."

"If you can call the last time easy," snorted Root, chucking down a glass of bitter stuff he wasn't even sure wasn't poison. "Does Koboi know it's here?"

"She probably didn't until we got here, if she's tracking us. If she'd known earlier, considering how strong her influence is in these parts, she would've acquired this key a long time ago and already got into Logos."

"So she's tracking us now," noted Holly sarcastically. "Great. Best piece of news I've heard so far."

"Are you going to eat that?" Artemis asked from across the table.

Holly only glared up at his total lack of panic. "No, Mud Whelp. It's meat."

"A surprisingly fine cut," observed the human. "May I?"

The elf chose keep her glare intense as the calm and rational genius proceeded to switch her plate with his that comprised of more carrot sticks and a minute slice of steak. Her rumbling stomach appreciated the maneuver, but her temper wasn't coping so well.

"I grant you that we are indeed at a disadvantage here," began Artemis patiently after a civilized mouthful. "There is a high chance that Koboi knows where we are. But her people in these regions will have specific orders that we are to be followed, not captured."

" _That's_ reassuring," commented Vinyayà with a raised eyebrow.

"She does not know that our knowledge of the third key's whereabouts is as limited as it is. Any attacks will be held off until we have acquired the key."

"Like I said. Reassuring."

"How can you be so sure of this, Fowl?" Root impatiently drummed the table. "Koboi does not enjoy these victories we have at her expense. She could very well issue an order that the first key is taken from us, we're either locked up or killed, and then she'll set her own people to find the third key."

"Too much of risk involved," disagreed Artemis. "She cannot afford to tell all her people to look for it because her enemies in these parts will invariably get wind of it and start their own searches."

"Speaking of which, we might have a few friends around here," Caleb brightened up suddenly. "My mother might have allies in these parts."

"Can you think of any?" asked Holly, daring to sound hopeful.

"Not really."

The elf held back an infuriated growl and went back to picking at her food.

"I think we're being watched," said Mulch from the unoccupied corner of his mouth. "See those burly guys over there?"

Frowning, everyone except Zone glanced the way the dwarf had pointed.

"Don't give us away," the bodyguard warned.

Holly couldn't tear her gaze, though. There was something about their apparent spies. Something...

"Ethos," she breathed.

She had seen the same thing before. The same dark circles under the eyes, the eternally sullen look, the apparel of black and grey. Each glimpse of Ethos had presented a few dressed like that as background. It had never been a cause for concern before, maybe, because they had stood a long distance away, unobtrusive, uninvolved, but now...

"Shit," swore Caleb, catching on. He had been there before, too. And he had seen those figures in the real world. In Logos, when the city was being overrun by Freaks. These figures had stood watching, assessing the damage, appreciating it. They were from Pathos, the same place the Freaks had come from. "We need to go."

Mulch looked at them quizzically. "What's going on?"

"Zone," started Caleb, tugging at his guardian's sleeve. "We need to go. _Now_."

The muscular figures in grey stood at about the same time Zone did.

"All of you, leave," the bodyguard instructed.

Caleb scowled. "No, man, I'm not leaving you behin–"

"There will be nothing left of you for me to protect if you don't get away right now," Zone pointed out, already leaving them. He was headed straight for the shady group, several crowded tables across.

The boy stared at his retreating back, dumbfounded. Something had to be done. He couldn't let Zone face those guys alone. Those guys were from _Pathos_. If the Freaks from Pathos could do such a lot of damage, the people could be no exception.

"He'll be back," Holly assured him, before grabbing him by the wrist and leading him in the opposite direction, towards the door. Caleb protested weak words that even his ears didn't quite manage to catch. Mulch followed behind them, then Artemis. Root and Vinyayà stuck around for longer, but they seemed to realize with their fresh injuries there wasn't much they could do to help. The entire group was soon taking fast steps down the dock, away from the restaurant, the entire group except for Zone. Caleb kept his neck turned and his eyes fixed on the squat building. He couldn't see the insides of it. He had no idea what was happening.

"Why can't he come with us? Why does he have to stay back?"

"He's buying us time, Caleb," Holly said, quickening her pace. "He'll be fine." They turned around a bend on the cobblestone streets and the boy couldn't see the squat building any longer. An unshakable sense of dread had settled on his shoulders. He couldn't convince himself of Holly's words.

The world grew eerily quiet around them as they headed further and further away. Daytime was warping into noon. Out of the commercial area now. Numerous battered paths leading to smaller settlements. Evening was approaching.

"Stop, please," Caleb said at last, a feeble protest. He slumped to a cross-legged sit the moment Holly let go of him. He buried his head in his hands and wondered how things had possibly gone so wrong over such a short frame of time.

"I'm going back," said Root suddenly, suppressing a wince that came from his battered ribcage. "Short, stay with the boy. There could be any number of threats still out there."

"You're in no state to fight, Commander," said Holly, but plainly, because it was a statement of fact. "And besides, it's...very late."

"He would have been able to hold out," disagreed Vinyayà. "I left him my blaster. Best case, he's on his way looking for us. Worst case, he's hiding. Either way he could do with some help."

"Then I'll go," volunteered Holly. "I'm in a better condition to fight."

The Wing Commander spent a couple of seconds assessing said condition and, noting that it was indeed better than Root's, nodded. "I'm taking Short with me, Commander."

Root scowled. "That wasn't what I initially–"

His protests were cut short by the frantic sound of ringing that erupted from somewhere inside Caleb's rucksack. The boy was immediately fishing for it and hit the call button as soon as he could.

"Zone, is that you?"

There was a reply, and Caleb nodded, tight-lipped. He put the ancient device on speaker for the rest of them to hear.

"Isn't Zone with you?" asked the concerned voice of Kyre.

"No, mom, he's..." The boy sighed. "We're in the place for the third key. There are people from Pathos following us. Zone stayed back to hold them off, but he hasn't returned yet."

"People from...Pathos?" Kyre gasped. "Wait, they've...deployed people from Pathos? That's not possible. It can't be."

Caleb scowled. "Well, it's happening, mom."

"No. The whole reason they want to get back into Logos is because that's where the gateway is. Between our world and Pathos. They can't have just...opened up another gateway. They wouldn't _need_ Logos then. They wouldn't need the keys."

"If you don't mind me asking," interjected Artemis patiently. "What have you learnt from your undercover operation in their ranks, that you still haven't told us about?"

Kyre seemed to hold her breath. "Caleb, you _told_ –"

"I didn't. He figured it out for himself. Answer the question."

The woman sighed, and the noise rattled through the speakers as a rush of static. "Very well. They want to get back into Logos to bring forth an army from Pathos via the gateway. They're fixated on Logos because it's the _only_ gateway. Opal is working for Esthre and Vost Medalen, members of a ruling class from Pathos whose objective is to conquer Logos and beyond it, meaning every one of our settlements as well. Once that is achieved they will move to Artemis's world and start from Haven City. This isn't just about Logos like we initially thought. And now it's _confirmed_ that they will attempt Haven afterwards. The army from Pathos is ready. The only things they need now are the keys to Logos so that they can locate Logos and bring that army."

"Isn't there a chance that this Pathos that's tracking us now came from Logos?" asked Holly.

"There were members of Pathos in Logos before, when Opal brought the Freaks for the first time, but without the keys inside the city nobody can actually leave it. The Freaks you saw in the lava caves were put there a long time ago when the keys were inside the city. But they're all the backup Opal kept. If you're seeing Pathos right now, there has to be another gateway."

"But Opal wouldn't care about Logos if there was," said Artemis.

"Exactly. I don't think Opal, Vost or Esthre know about this other gateway."

Caleb frowned. "Wait. Does that mean those Pathos people back there _aren't_ our enemies?"

"If they also intend on conquering the world, they are. But in this instance they're more Vost and Esthre's enemies. Trying to conquer this world first. The worry is that _they_ don't need the keys or Logos if they already have a gateway."

"Bloody hell," swore Root. "We have virtually no way of stopping _them_ from bringing an army?"

"Unless we set both our enemies up against each other, no," replied Kyre. "And in that regard I will do all I can."

"But we still need to find the third key?" asked Caleb.

"All this talk about a new enemy is just speculation, Caleb," said Kyre. "But just in case there isn't a new gateway that Opal's army can also use, we need to secure the keys." She paused for a moment and when she spoke again, her tone was a lot less businesslike. "I'm sorry, Caleb. I should never have put you on this mission to begin with. It didn't occur to me that I was failing as a mother, no matter how hard I worked for the rebellion and to get our old home back. I should have kept you safe instead of pushing you right into the heart of the battle. I regret it now. I'll never make the same mistake again."

Caleb sighed. "Mom, I'm handling it well."

"This is the last assignment I'm setting you on, Caleb," stated Kyre firmly. "You think Zone doesn't send me reports of the situation? I heard about Harpsichord Isalnd. You were...heaven, I don't know what to call it. Kidnapped? Nearly _sold off?_ Never again. I nearly got a bloody heart attack, and it's all my fault it happened. _I_ set you on that mission. _I_ would have been responsible for it if they had... _organ trade_ , Caleb!"

"Mom, I–" The boy stopped, knowing there was no arguing his way out of this one. "Okay. Just this mission."

There was a momentary pause on the other end, and then Kyre continued tiredly, "There is a friend of mine, an ally, who rules a moderately large settlement called Silas City. They left Logos just like we did, so most of them don't patronize Opal. My friend has had her own searches for the third key over the past few months. She'll have some extent of knowledge as to the key's possible whereabouts. I've notified her of your arrival."

"Will do," said Caleb dryly.

"Wait for Zone," Kyre said sternly, but with a kind of motherly gentleness he had not heard since they left their old home of Logos. "He'll be back."

The boy managed a half-smile. "Thanks, mom."

* * *

 **A/N: I _really_ owe every one of you a huge apology for this delay, but I promise you I won't take this long with the next chapter. Did you like my little semi-cliffhanger? ;)**


End file.
